A Harbinger's Call
by Shun Ren Dan
Summary: When Bulma completes her time machine ahead of schedule, Gohan is allowed the chance to go back in time and save his friends from the cruel hands of fate. Determined not to let his friends and family die to the Androids, Gohan sets out to prove that the right man in the wrong place truly can make all the difference. (Updates Weekly!)
1. Precipice

Gohan had never liked the desert. The sands were always blisteringly hot and the nights were always uncompromisingly cold. The wind swept over the wasteland floor and carried away swathes of red sand, scattering them into the breeze and affording Gohan a semblance of comfort. Behind him, the Northern Wastelands unfurled and spread out for miles. Dusty pillars of red stone rose up like ancient towers all around him to form a series of complex looking plateaus. If he had to guess, no one else had visited the plateaus in over a hundred years.

A clear, blue sky hung over the plateaus and afforded him a wealth of vision, which was going to come in handy before long. His ship rested, idle, in a basin a few miles to the West. It would only take him a few minutes of travel time to reach it, once things got rolling. There wasn't much more time before an unstoppable series of events began to unfold.

He had not traveled through time to find himself denied at the last moment. He would warn his father about the heart virus and make sure that that his friends all survived the grim challenge that was bound to come for them. After all of that had been taken care of, he would return home, satisfied, to a world no longer ravaged by death and destruction.

A speck of black blinked into existence against the horizon, alerting Gohan to the arrival of Frieza's ship. Two massive ki signatures, etched into his memory, stood out as residents of the speck, which he knew to be a ship, and sent a rogue chill down the length of his spine. Despite the fact that he had grown so much stronger since he'd first encountered those two strengths, he still remembered the fear from his childhood. It would serve him well to conquer it.

A series of powers immediately flickered to life across all corners of the world as they sensed the disturbance. They would be arriving before long, determined to do their best to stop the force of undeterrable evil that had just materialized in the atmosphere.

Energy surged out from his every pore as he took off from the top of the plateau and blasted across the sky, his body wreathed in a shimmering blue flame.

Gohan arrived at the basin where his time machine idled in under a minute, having utilized the full extent of his speed in order to make sure he arrived before his friends did. Already, he could feel their power levels closing in; Vegeta led the way, followed closely by Tien and Chiaotzu. Krillin brought up the rear with a familiar youngster in tow. Piccolo, who had been training casually a few miles away, was the closest... but he wouldn't immediately engage anything.

They wouldn't be landing in the same place, anyway. Piccolo and the others were set to land atop a nearby outcrop. It would serve as their perch as they watched the struggle between Gohan and his soon-to-be opponents unfold. The halfling wondered, briefly, whether or not his memory of the encounter would change as it happened.

The flickering font of energy raging around him vanished with an immutable whisper as the speck in the sky slowly began to grow. Gohan's fists clenched at his sides while the borders of Frieza's ship hesitantly grew and deblurred, revealing a massive saucer that hung grim over the wastelands.

* * *

"Gohan, did you feel that?"

The sound of Krillin's voice nearly forced Gohan to stop - but he kept flying despite the unexpected interruption. They'd been flying in silence for the last few minutes, determined to get to the wasteland as quickly as possible in order to intercept Frieza.

"What? You mean Frieza?" he asked.

Krillin frowned and clenched his fists tighter. Maybe he was imagining things, but he was pretty sure that there'd been a third ki signature up ahead, one that was at least as strong as Goku had been on Namek... maybe a little stronger, actually. His brow furrowed for just a second while he wondered if, somehow, the energy that had surfaced in the plateau had been Goku. It would have made sense that he'd arrive in their darkest hour, but they would have felt him coming into the atmosphere, long before he crashed into some desert.

"It felt like there was something else there for a second. Didn't you feel it?"

Gohan took a long look at Krillin, diverting his gaze from the sky before them and considering the older man's words.

"No," he said.

Honestly, he hadn't felt anything. He wasn't as experienced as Krillin was at sensing energy, but he felt pretty sure that he'd have felt another signature cropping up. Krillin, though he seemed to be staring ahead, didn't let the thought go. The shimmering trail of bright light in his wake suddenly intensified as he sped up, determined to reach the outcrop before Frieza did. If his friend had made it back to Earth in one piece, he was going to be the first one to know.

* * *

Krillin, despite his increased speed, was still not the first one to arrive on the battlefield. Dressed in a pink shirt, a pair of loose fitting pants, and black shoes, the Prince of all Saiyans touched down against the sand and dispersed his aura. Piccolo arrived shortly after, followed by Tien and Chiaotzu, who touched down and immediately turned to look up at the sky. Frieza's ship was no longer just a speck on the horizon. In the time it'd taken them to arrive, the massive spacecraft had already started to set down. It hovered just above the clouds and spun in place, as if waiting for the Earth's strongest defenders to arrive.

"He's here already," Tien said, calmly.

"He feels strong, Tien," replied Chiaotzu, before turning his attention to the other warriors that stood atop the mesa. Gohan and Krillin could be felt closing in from the distance; they would be there soon. "Do you think we can beat him?"

Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Piccolo rolled his eyes.

"There's not going to be a we for much longer, pipsqueak. If that is Frieza aboard that ship, which it most certainly is, then he's going to kill us where we stand."

Gohan and Krillin touched down against the sand and came skittering to a halt just a few yards behind Vegeta, and quickly moved to survey the basin below, where the tyrant was most likely to land. It was the perfect landing site; clear and open, it would afford the demon a fair launching point for what was clearly going to be his greatest counter attack of all time. Earth's Heroes had stopped him on Namek, and now he would stop them on Earth.

Krillin was sure that, to Frieza, something like that would only seem fair.

"Piccolo, what're we working with here?" he said, trying to take command of the situation. "I feel two signatures on that ship. One of them feels like Frieza, but the other feels like it's in a whole new league."

"That's his father, you dolt!" Vegeta barked, before approaching the end of the plateau and staring down into the basin. Despite his opinion that they were all doomed, he was still morbidly curious as to what would happen once the two monsters touched down. Would they destroy them swiftly? Or would they take their time and play with their food?

"Two signatures, like you said. I felt something else earlier, but I couldn't be sure what it was. I thought for a second it might've been Goku," the Namekian began. "But we would have sensed him long before Frieza got here if he was waiting to save us. I think we're going to be on our own for this one. If we can find a way to hold out until Goku gets here, then we should be fine. He's beaten him once, he can beat him again."

Krillin nodded and tightened the sash around his waist. Piccolo, as if to stiffen their collective resolve, put a reassuring hand on Gohan's shoulder. He could feel the boy's fear; despite the fact that he was the son of the strongest warrior in the universe, he hadn't yet acquired the same stereotypical optimism that his father always seemed to carry around with him.

With that in mind, even he wasn't sure if he could believe his own words. The two strengths on Frieza's ship felt monstrous. Already, thin beads of sweat were beading their way down his brow. The sound of an engine tearing its way across the sky roused him from his thoughts and let Yamcha's relatively low-key arrival fly under his radar.

"Is that Bulma?" Gohan asked, caught completely by surprise.

It was unlikely that the ship floating up in the sky would notice the arrival of the small aircraft that was approaching low over the landscape, but that didn't stop the newly arrived Yamcha from expressing his displeasure.

"What is she, crazy? I told her not to come," he said, agitated.

Her ship, which looked like a cargo plane with the Capsule Corporation logo emblazoned on the side, touched down at the center of the mesa and blew away a tide of sand and dust. The second the hatch on the plane was unleashed, Yamcha was already waving his hands in the air.

"Hey! Cut the engine! We don't want anyone to know we're here!"

"Yamcha!"

Puar popped out of the cockpit ahead of Bulma, who cut the engine on command and jumped out of her plane. Her thumb pressed down on a little capsule in her hand, and almost immediately, the plane dissipated into smoke and light, before filtering back into the device. Yamcha, who didn't seem particularly pleased by Puar's presence, let his flying cat come to a rest on his shoulder.

He exhaled through his nose as Bulma grinned.

He recognized that smile. Nothing good came of that smile.

"I didn't get the chance to see Frieza on Namek, and now you want me to miss him here too? Did you really think I was just going to stay home just because you asked me to?"

Vegeta practically cackled, clearly amused by his glorified landlord's defiance. He had expected her to do something like that. If he knew one thing about the blue-haired woman, it was that she was not someone who could be reasoned with.

"Shut up, pink-shirt!" Yamcha shouted, lamely, at Vegeta.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood, scarface, otherwise I'd stuff it down your throat," he replied.

A wayward breeze once again swept over the rocky outcrops and brought a new wave of tension filled silence with it. Tien, uncharacteristically, was the first one to break it.

"We don't need to be arguing right now," he said, fists clenched. "I don't want to be picked up by some kind of listening device just because you two can't shelf your problems."

Vegeta turned away from the mesa's lip for the first time in order to appraise the three-eyed man that had just dared to challenge him. If they hadn't been suppressing their energy in order to maintain the element of surprise, he would have floored him right then and there. In fact, the idea didn't seem any less appealing with that in mind. If they were going to die anyway, he would appreciate the chance to enjoy himself.

"I'll give them a reason to pick you up, baldy," Vegeta growled. "Pick you up from the morgue, that is."

"Guys! Stop fighting! The ship's getting closer!"

The sound of Gohan's voice forced everyone to look up into the sky, where the ship that had been looming over them all was beginning to descend. It broke through the now cloudless sky and fell like a stone toward the mesa they were standing on. The saucer stopped in midair and leveled out to take an Eastward direction. With a burst of speed, it shot over a nearby ridge and came to a rest. Aboard the ship, a number of low power levels made themselves known, hidden before by the distance and the sheer, overwhelming strength of the two titans that had accompanied them.

"That's probably the crew," Krillin noted.

Vegeta, recovered from his moment of anger, stepped toward the edge of the plateau and turned his head to the others, who looked notably more nervous than before. Krillin's brow was furrowed in frustration, and the Namekian had begun to remove his weighted clothing. Gohan, who had looked anxious to begin with, was sweating profusely. The other two humans, Tien and Yamcha, didn't seem particularly to bothered. Despite their low power levels, it was obvious that the humans were the ones most used to harrowing situations.

Their chances of victory were still next to nonexistent, but with a little bit of strategy and quick thinking, they might be able to hold off long enough for Goku to arrive on the battlefield. His time in space couldn't last forever... but even if he didn't land that day, he would have to land eventually. There was no way that Frieza had come to Earth simply to blow the place up before the Super Saiyan arrived. No, he was too much of a sadist for that.

"Power levels suppressed. I don't want them picking us up just because you lot got sloppy," he grumbled, stepping off of the plateau and taking flight.

* * *

_A/N: Hey there! I'm Shun Ren Dan and this is my first attempt at a long form fanfiction. I hope you enjoy following Future Gohan (later redubbed Shourai) as he attempts to save his friends in the past and liberate his own future. It will cover, canonically, the events of the "Trunks Saga" through the events of the Cell Games (or the equivalent time). There'll be a few key changes that you'll notice take place, some major, some minor._

_Feel free to ask questions via review or private message. I don't bite and I'm eager to get this story under way. The first thing you'll notice is that I took some liberties with the arrival time of the Z-fighters, which, in the anime, differed pretty heavily from the way I portrayed it here. That's mostly just so I can write the characters in the way I visualize them. There is no special significance to the arrival order._

_Q: How would Bulma complete her Time Machine three years ahead of time? That seems like a pretty large leap to me.  
__A: Keep reading!_

* * *

**_Table of Contents:_**

**Arrival:**

\- Precipice  
\- Harbinger

**Sic Semper**:

\- King  
\- Climb  
\- Peak

**Adjustment**:

\- Reverberations  
\- Cooldown

**Heavy is the Head**:

\- The World King's Fist  
\- The Regent  
\- To Reign  
\- Destroy All Tyrants!

**The Search:**

\- East District 439  
\- Hunting Grounds  
\- Coming Soon

**Future Interlude Chapters**:

To The Future, Wayward, ...


	2. Harbinger

"Daddy, we seem to have arrived unannounced."

Frieza's voice, once crisp and cultured, rasped out clearly over the cries of the ship's engines. A large, metal plate swooped down over the left and uppermost sides of his head. Thin lines of light strobed over the metal and glittered in the darkness. Similar plating ran over his left pectoral and constituted the entirety of his lower body, which had been decimated by the force of the monkey's final blast. His left arm, a crosshatching of metal and flesh, did little to distinguish the once great ruler from a patchwork automaton.

Son Goku had taken everything from him: his pride, his body, his dignity... all of those things would be restored when the filthy monkey's homeworld lay in smouldering ruins.

"Oh? The scanners caught on to a few signatures headed this way when we were in the upper atmosphere. I'm sure they're waiting for us, Frieza. Just be patient. We haven't even stepped outside yet," King Cold reasoned, taking his place at the center of the drop hatch.

The hatch itself was large, big enough to hold both King Cold's massive, hulking figure and that of his diminutive son. Even if Frieza hadn't been in his fourth form, the both of them would have been able to fit.

The two tyrants stood in silence, smug as the ship's engines quieted. All around them, a constantly updating picture of their surroundings were being broadcast to the innards of the ship via panoramic view screen. They could see the slategray of sheetrock below the ship and the blue sky above it, as well as the distant rock formations to the South, East, and West. The only clear direction seemed to be North, which seemed to lead into an even larger wasteland.

"How about we go greet your friends, my boy?"

King Cold waved his hand through the air as Frieza stepped onto the hatch, still brooding despite his father's calming voice. There was to be no rest until every last one of the Super Saiyan's friends were dead at his feet, by his hand, for him to see.

When the enigmatic man arrived on Earth, he would find the place on fire and marked clearly as a graveyard for dying men's dreams. A barrier of energy erected itself around the two frost demons as the hatch fell downward and exposed them to the warm desert air.

* * *

For Gohan, everything was going according to plan. Frieza's ship had landed in the Northern Wastes, and like they had the first time, two shadowy figures fell from the belly of the beast and came to a rest at the bottom of a particularly large basin. Their landing site was bordered by an ocean of rocky outcrops, but neither creature seemed to matter. The half-saiyan watched with mild interest as a number of soldiers filtered out of the ship, single file, from the top.

They flew through the air and dropped down just in front of Frieza and his father, in order to accept their orders. If they weren't stopped, they would go on to find his friends and former self hidden amongst the nearby rocks. Unable to move, they would be cornered and chased like flies while they waited for Son Goku to arrive and save the day. Vegeta would be beaten half to death, Krillin would be gravely wounded, and even Yamcha would suffer from horrendous injuries at the hands of the invaders.

"Guess it's showtime," he murmured.

Gohan jumped from the top of his pillar and fell to Earth in a flash of orange and blue about twenty yards from the saucer; the pair of frost demons turned almost immediately to greet him, their attention stolen away from their troop formation. Frieza stood on the left, backed by his father, who towered over the broken tyrant with a smug expression plastered across his face. He was clearly of the impression that things were moving along fairly well for them.

"Is this him, son?" the old King drawled. His eyes lingering over the dark-haired youth that'd just appeared in front of his ship.

A wayward wind swept over the rock face and jostled the fabric of Gohan's gi. The iconic orange and blue of his father's outfit flapped in the wind until it settled, fluttering gently in the breeze. Two dark red eyes glittered against the metal of Frieza's face plate as they traveled from the bottom of the half-saiyan's boots, wandered over the cloth of his gi, and came to a rest on his face. In the depths of the young man's eyes, a familiar fire burned on in defiant's of the tyrant's wishes, but in spite of it, Frieza smiled.

"No, father. This appears to be some kind of fanboy," Frieza said.

"Same orange outfit, same smug face, same black hair. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the monkey's son has grown up on me."

A dangerous smirk played across the Tyrant's face, replacing the macabre grin that'd been there hardly a second before. He was going to enjoy making an example out of the stranger that'd come before him.

"Would you like my help? Or would you prefer to deal with this one... yourself?"

Cold's typically calming voice did little to soothe his son's brewing anger.

Frieza pointed his finger at the young man's chest, eager to wipe him off of the face of the Earth. He definitely resembled the Super Saiyan, at least... before the transformation. They wore the same clothes, they bore the same dirty defiance in their eyes, and probably the same hope in their hearts.

"No, father. I don't think we'll need to get our hands dirty with him. Wui, scan this one for his power level. I'd like to know what he's capable of."

A green-skinned creature stepped forward from the ranks of Frieza and Cold's soldiers and pressed down on a button on the ridge of his scouter. Numbers flashed along the bottom of the little device's display; the alien, Wui, gripped the handle of his blaster a little tighter in response. This would be his chance to earn some brownie points.

"Five. Would you like me to deal with him, milord?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gohan said, clenching his fists at his sides. Despite the tension of the situation, he was grinning like an idiot. He remembered how easily his father had manhandled Frieza after his return to Earth... for him, it was going to be just as easy. He had long since unlocked the secrets of the Super Saiyan state. Frieza's power was admittedly fearsome, but it was a strength that he'd eclipsed long ago. "But if you're here looking for a Super Saiyan, I can fill the part."

Frieza laughed and let his finger drop to his side.

The boy thought he was a Super Saiyan, did he?

"Wui, dispose of him. After we destroy this boy, we'll search the place for the monkey's friends. Whoever captures one automatically gets to live."

Wui focused his energy into his blaster and grunted as a blast of shimmering white energy was unleashed from the weapon's barrel.

Gohan smacked the blast up into the sky with one hand, prompting the alien to fire again and again in an attempt to rectify the situation. The dark-haired youth batted each blast away with a practiced precision and leveled his left hand up to aim at Wui's chest.

"You don't want to fire again."

Wui's body shook once from the recoil - and then once again when a beam of energy pierced through his chest and took him to the ground. His wayward blast exploded against a heavy looking rock and bathed the landing site in heat and smoke, which settled over the ground and lingered like dark fog settling in over the battlefield.

King Cold snickered, but said nothing as his son's obvious frustration mounted. Thickets of purple electricity rolled through the air around Frieza, crackling and sizzling maliciously. There was no mistaking the fact that the boy before them was giving his son some rather unfortunate flashbacks.

"I warned him, and I'll warn you. Leave this planet now Frieza, or die by my hands. I don't take mercy on murderers, no matter how foolish their goals."

The current of lightning surrounding Frieza's body exploded into a raging maelstrom of violet ki. It swam and spun around his muscles like viscous plasma, strengthening him. Gohan, across the battlefield, didn't seem to be perturbed.

"You! I'll call your bluff! You're strong enough to take on a minion or two, sure... but if my reputation does truly precede me, then you must know that you have no chance against me! I am Frieza, the mightiest warrior in the universe! Super Saiyan or not, I'll destroy you like I will the rest of this backwater planet!"

Gohan listened to the tyrant's speech with mild interest. He remembered something similar happening when Vegeta had briefly tried stopping the frost demon's invasion in his timeline. Of course, Vegeta had been crushed like a particularly obstinate fly. Gohan, on the other hand, had no such intention.

"If you say so, monster."

The ground beneath his feet began to rumble and shake as his once friendly grin gave way to a dark grimace. The tangled mess of black hair atop his head found itself pulled upward against the forces of gravity as stray shards of rock and clods of dirt were lifted up off of the ground.

"Hraaaaaaaaah!"

He could feel everything. The faces of his friends flickered across his vision as his power suddenly skyrocketed. They all flashed before his eyes in grim sequence, waging war against his emotions and tearing him away from the battlefield.

He saw Krillin first, taken by a blast from behind and crushed beneath the weight of an indeterminable power. Then came Yamcha, Tien and Chiaotzu, defeated together and left to die in the streets of a shattered city. They hadn't stood a chance in the face of the impenetrable darkness that had consumed the Earth. Vegeta was next. Stubborn and prideful, the Prince had gone down fighting, cursing his murderers with his very last breath. Finally, Piccolo - once tall and strong - had been rendered broken and bent at the feet of the cyborgs.

Then, all at once, the dam broke.

The force of Gohan's scream only made his transformation that much more fierce. His muscles cracked and expanded in unison; a roaring torrent of golden fury raged on around him, prompting Frieza to step back as the boy's eyes were overcome by fearsome teal storms. The black of his hair faded to gold and struck out in all directions. The rock face at his feet ruptured as he continued to scream, unleashing the full depth of his power.

An entire row of scouters exploded in sequence as they fought to assess the true nature of the warrior's strength and fell woefully short.

The storm raging around Gohan abated as his strength peaked. His fists were still clenched at his sides, and his jaw was firmly set in place. Across from him, the once mighty Frieza shook in place, humbled and infuriated by the display of power that he had just been shown.

"You can't be! You can't be him," he whispered.

"You're right," Gohan said, breathing slowly.

"I'm not Son Goku... but I am the next best thing."

* * *

From their hiding place, the Z-Fighters watched on in awe.

"There's no mistaking it! He's a Super Saiyan," Gohan shouted, no longer concerned about being overheard. Behind him, Krillin continued to survey the situation, having never seen a Super Saiyan up close before. It had been his death that brought Goku over the brink and allowed him to transform, after all.

"Impossible! Kakarot and I are the only full blooded Saiyans left."

Vegeta's words were laced with bitterness and anger. He wanted to argue further, but the undeniable waves of power that were pouring out of the stranger before him were too much to refute. It was as if his entire existence was proof of the legend he'd spent his entire life believing, and for some reason, that infuriated him more than anything else. First, Kakarot had ascended - and now, this stranger?

It felt insulting.

"Maybe it's your dad after all, Gohan," Yamcha said.

"No, Goku's energy is different... this guy feels a lot darker somehow."

Krillin's explanation was vague, but to the point. Goku's energy felt like hope and sunshine and inspiration. The new guy's power felt completely different. More like desperation and anger, tinged by the sadness of clear loss.

"This guy is someone else entirely. I don't think we know who he is... but if he's here to defeat Frieza, I guess I'm not gonna complain. Do you guys think we should help him or anything?"

Gohan grinned, but remained in place behind his rock.

"Something tells me that we'd just get in the way, Krillin... We just need to let this guy handle things until my dad shows up."

* * *

Frieza pointed his finger directly at the stranger's chest, his expression dark.

"Son Goku this, Super Saiyans that! Don't you monkeys have anything else to talk about?!"

A beam of thin purple energy ripped through the air toward Gohan with lethal intent, but the now blond fighter swayed to the right and dodged it. Wasting no time, Frieza fired off a series of the same beam in quick succession, scowling as the warrior wove in and out of each one without effort.

Gohan slowly advanced through the crosshatching of beams, sliding around each one by a wide margin as he danced toward Frieza. Even though he was undeniably stronger than the tyrant, he wasn't going to risk eating a death beam to the chest. He would end their battle decisively, just like his father had when he arrived on Earth in the original timeline.

Rivulets of faint lightning crackled and burst in the air around his fingertips as he suddenly thrust his hand forward and hunkered down. Three bolts of golden energy swirled out from his hands and coalesced in the air, interrupting Frieza's onslaught. Cold dodged to the side, but his eyes never left his son, who jumped up into the air - exactly what Gohan had been waiting for.

Frieza didn't even have time to catch his breath before a powerful golden beam crashed into the plating over his left pectoral and burst. Smoke and fire filled the air as the stranger unleashed blast after blast into the now growing cloud, knocking the frost demon backward with every bolt. None of the blasts were strong enough to kill Frieza, but they weren't meant to. Instead, they were meant to draw out the full extent of his rage.

It had been a long time since Gohan had faced a challenge that he could savor.

Frieza exploded out from the top of the cloud, wreathed in a crown of purple and black, and descended upon Gohan like a furious plague.

He unleashed with a fierce flurry of strikes that Gohan ducked and dodged around, weaving backwards and tracking the frost demon with his eyes. Every blow was strong enough to kill him in his base form, but while he was a Super Saiyan, Frieza might as well have been moving in slow motion.

With a heavy grunt, he struck back and buried his fist deep in the demon's face. Speckles of purple blood spread through the air and fell like rain over the rocks as the alien went skidding backward over the ground.

Frieza roared and screamed with anger, once again extending his hand toward the man who was making him look like a fool in front of his father. Shafts of light shimmered into existence and arched through the air in an attempt to close in on the hybrid's position; Gohan jumped backward and the energy exploded harmlessly against the ground, covering the battlefield in warm smoke.

"That all you got?" Gohan taunted, extending his hand and dispersing the veil of smog with a burst of invisible energy, something that he was told was called a 'kiai.'

His eyes widened as he realized that he'd lost track of Frieza.

"Huh?"

"Hahaha! Filthy monkey, did you really think that this was going to be easy?!"

Frieza reappeared in the sky above, his fingertip raised high above his head and his red eyes glittering with hate. The lightning that surrounded him earlier had now coalesced into a sphere of glowing light in the air above him, and doubled in size with every second that passed. Gohan knew the game; he'd seen Frieza use the same attack to destroy Namek. His brow furrowed as he watched the gigantic orb of ki expand to blot out the sun and cast a dark light over the Earth.

"You'll die with this backwater planet!"

Stray arches of electricity roamed, unchecked, over the surface of the tyrant's attack as it fell through the air and sank toward Gohan.

King Cold crossed his arms over his chest and shot up off of the ground, taking to the air in an effort to avoid the aftermath of his son's terrible fury. The Death Ball was bound to burrow deep into the planet's core, tearing away at the soil of the Earth's crust on its way down. When it finally reached the center of the planet, it would force the entire thing to explode, and probably take the stranger with it.

Gohan straightened from his defensive stance and glared up at the ball of ki as it came toward him. The blast was, admittedly, a little stronger than he remembered... but it wasn't going to be much of a problem. He lifted his hand up into the air and caught the surface of the blast before it could make contact with the ground, taking care to keep it afloat. If it hit the ground, he didn't know if he could stop it.

"Hm? It seems to have stopped moving," King Cold said.

"Let me give it a hand then!"

Frieza unleashed another bolt of lightning-like energy from his fingertips. It collided with the outer wall of his Death Ball - and in a flash, the world beneath him was consumed by hellfire and smoke. It drifted over the battlefield like a macabre fog and settled in place over the rock.

The pillars of stone around the basin crumbled and fell inward, piercing through the shroud of smog and crashing against the ground.

For just a moment, Frieza grinned, triumphant.

Then, like divine lightning, a furious rail of energy shot out from the cloud of smoke and pierced straight through his chest; his hands flickered to the now gaping wound in his torso just in time for Gohan to reappear, unharmed, in the air above him. Wreathed in golden energy and lightning, the Super Saiyan drove his fist hard into the left half of the tyrant's skull and sent him careening to the side.

Gohan reached out with his other hand and caught the beast by its metallic tail before it could be knocked away, and with a mighty roar dragged the once great conqueror down through the air. Frieza's body slammed into the rock and tunneled deep into the ground, where it came to a rest in the dirt for what felt like an eternity.

"This... this can't be! I am Frieza! The mightiest warrior in the universe! I won't lose to you, not again! I will NOT be disgraced again!"

He rose from his earthen coffin like a meteor to engage Gohan again. A storm of furious strikes barraged the Saiyan from all angles, but none landed. With each failed blow, the tyrant's breaths grew more and more haggard... but his father didn't intervene. Instead, King Cold watched from the sidelines, having taken a perch on the roof of their ship. Soldiers continued to watch from the ground as their prince grew increasingly frustrated in the air.

"I've had enough fun with you, Frieza! This ends now!"

Gohan grabbed the demon's incoming punch by the wrist.

Expressionless, he struck with his free hand and shoved his fist through the frost demon's abdomen. Purple blood splattered itself all over the front of Gohan's gi, but found itself quickly evaporated by the heat from his aura; Frost Demons were strong, but even they couldn't defeat a Super Saiyan at full power.

"I'm... Lord F-Frieza! The... the strongest... warrior in... in the universe!"

Energy crackled at the end of Gohan's fist and burst apart into a torrent of unyielding energy, which exploded down the length of his forearm and consumed the tyrant whole. His freshly reconstructed body was ripped away and seared from the skies in a display of heat and strength.

A black smudge hung in the sky where Frieza had stood a moment prior; his end had come.

Gohan stood to his full height and turned to face Cold, his eyes fierce and his aura still crackling with living lightning.

"Got anything you wanna say about that?"

"He was Lord Frieza, the strongest warrior in the universe," King Cold replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Congratulations."

* * *

The Earth's mightiest warriors slowly filtered out from behind the rocks, their eyes glued on the evolving spectacle in the sky. They had just watched a complete stranger pick Frieza apart... and from how things looked, he was about to get to work on the demon's Father, too. Was such a thing really possible?

"This dude's incredible," said Yamcha, practically cheering the stranger on. "He totally trashed Frieza!"

Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest as the scarred human moved to high five Krillin and Gohan, who responded in kind. When Yamcha worked his way over to Vegeta, the Saiyan didn't respond. Only slightly perturbed, Yamcha moved on to give Chiaotzu a fist bump.

"Don't you fools understand? This is far from over."

Everyone turned to look at Vegeta except for the Namekian, who watched as the stranger began to talk with the Frost Demon in the air. It seemed that they were having a heated debate about something, but with all of the noise on the ground, he couldn't tell what.

"Cold has yet to show his full power. If he gets the chance, our new friend is most certainly doomed. Super Saiyan or not, Cold is much stronger than his son."

Gohan's brow furrowed. The two evil signatures had felt pretty even upon first inspection. How could Cold be stronger than his son had been? He hadn't even transformed.

"He hasn't transformed," he breathed.

"He's got another form, doesn't he Vegeta? We haven't seen him at full power yet."

Tien frowned and stepped forward, his energy flaring.

"What do you mean he's got another form? Is he some kind of changeling?"

Piccolo sighed, having finally given up on listening to the conversation in the sky, and looked over to Tien. He could understand the human's confusion; Tien hadn't been on Namek. He didn't know the situation well enough to get what Gohan had meant.

"Frieza's people have a number of forms. Frieza was in his last, fourth, form. Cold up there is in his second. If he gets to his next form, then his strength will increase by about half his current strength. If that guy doesn't kill him now, before he gets a minute to transform, things are going to get a lot more complicated. Frieza's second form wasn't even one percent of his full strength... in fact, even I could beat Frieza in that form."

Silence fell over the group as their attention once again fell on the stranger in the sky. His power level was once again rising; it was almost time for round two. It was Bulma who broke the silence.

"Are you serious?! We're not even going to tell him?!"

Vegeta shot a pointed glare in the human's direction, but didn't raise his voice. Despite his contempt for the woman and her strange, futuristic home, he had no desire to embarrass her on the eve of their collective demise.

"It's not our place to tell him. He's a Saiyan," the Prince begrudgingly admitted. "He'll either let Cold transform or kill him before he gets the chance. I doubt even Kakarot would kill him without giving him an opportunity to power up to his full strength. Even if he kills him here, the curiosity will haunt him for the rest of his life."

* * *

_A/N: It's at this point that I feel I should stop and explain some elements of the plot that the story, itself, doesn't allow me to expand on. This mainly revolves around the power levels of the fighters in this chapter, the logic I use for power levels, and the differences in power that lead to a fight being as one sided as Future Gohan vs. Frieza._

_Like Bringer of Death and Break Through the Limit, A Harbinger's Call uses power levels to measure the strength of the combatants within the story itself. The power levels for this chapter are as follows:_

_Mirai Gohan (Arrival) - 10,000,000_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan (Arrival) - 155,000,000_

_Frieza (Mecha) - 130,000,000_

_King Cold (Form 2) - 135,000,000_

_This follows a trend set by Bringer of Death, which is where I acquired a listing for Frieza's power level. I did, however, beg to differ on King Cold's strength, which I feel would be much closer to his son's. It's worth noting that, in the chapter, it wasn't mentioned that Frost Demons (Frieza's species) only unlock power by transforming. They don't actually gain power._

_A Harbinger's Call follows the theory set forth by DBZ Multiverse, which suggests that Frost Demons unlock their power in their original forms, their fourth forms. Cooler is the only one with a fifth form, which allows him to actually gain power. Think of them like reverse Super Saiyans. Frost Demons close off parts of their power so that they can control themselves better by going into a lower form. Super Saiyans gain more power by transforming into a higher form, like Gohan here._

_Finally, Super Saiyan: Super Saiyan follows the idea that the transformation itself is a flat increase in strength. Gohan's power is not multiplied by fifty when he transforms. Instead, he gains a flat 145,000,000 power level for transforming._

_Please note, however, that my version of this scale is going to differ from his in a few respects. Divergences between my scale and his are already apparent in Future Gohan's power level, but more differences will crop up in the next chapter, where things get real._

_Stay tuned!_


	3. King

Gohan snorted in reply to the frost demon's sarcasm. He had just decimated Frieza, one of the strongest warriors in the known universe, with a flick of the wrist, and all King Cold had offered him in return was a little bit of sarcasm and wry humor. It was, in a sense, fitting at least. King Cold hadn't reacted much to the death of his son in the original timeline either, not that he'd had the time to. Gohan's father had destroyed the both of them nearly instantaneously.

"I shouldn't have expected any kind of reaction, I guess. You seemed like the smug type," Gohan said, slowly unclenching his fists.

Cold laughed, sharp and short. It was obvious that his attention was elsewhere. He was probably trying to figure a way out of his current predicament; staring down an angry Super Saiyan wasn't something that anyone found entertaining.

"I wouldn't say you're wrong, Saiyan. However, I do detest the implication that I'm open to blame in this situation. You've met my son. You know what he was like, surely. Had you not killed him, I would have had to eventually."

Gohan repositioned himself in the air while he listened to Cold's voice, turning his entire body to face the alien creature. Meanwhile, his eyes scanned the landscape below for any sight of his friends. He would be reuniting with them soon enough - but he didn't want them to be caught in the crossfire, not that there was going to be much of it. Cold wasn't much stronger than his son was. The power difference between them certainly wasn't enough to mention.

"Honestly, kudos, congratulations, like I said. If anything, I'd like to thank you. Is there anything I can do to show you my gratitude? A planet, perhaps?"

The King paused and let his words hang in the air.

Gohan didn't respond.

"Or maybe... you'd like to be my second in command? Now that Frieza's gone, there _would_ be a power vacuum in his quadrant. Perhaps you'd like to take his place? You've certainly shown that you have the credentials."

The hybrid breathed in sharply through his nose; there it was. Frieza had offered his father something similar on the surface of Namek. The offer had been hollow then, filled with the macabre ring of death and imminent betrayal, and it was hollow now.

"I don't think so. I'm not interested in anything you have to offer, Cold," Gohan said.

Cold smirked as Gohan's gaze once again fell upon him. Even he could see the determination of the stranger before him; it was apparent that his chances at survival were going to be slim if the situation didn't change.

"So we're going to fight, then? Isn't that a bit cliché? One lives, the other survives and all that?"

A gout of golden flame burst into existence at Gohan's heels and spread upward over his body. The fire crackled and snapped at the air, eating away at the oxygen. Maintaining a peaceful attitude in his Super Saiyan state was something that he'd never mastered. Something about the form itself was overbearing. It practically forced the primal side of his heritage to wake up; the side he'd tried to ignore for the last twenty years. It was like once the dam broke, it could never be put back together. The power flooding through the body was just too much.

"That's your answer."

Gohan flickered in place and reappeared a few inches away from his target's face. His leg sliced through the air and the base of his boot smashed into the frost demon's unsuspecting chin, sending him careening across the sky like a comet headed over the horizon. He vanished again and materialized in the creature's path, bringing his now cupped hands down like a violent hammer onto the beast's chest. Cold plummeted to Earth and hit the ground, kicking up shards of sheetrock and a scattered plume of dust and sand.

He waited, patiently, for the demon to rise from his position on the ground. He had a few hours to kill until his father arrived, but that didn't mean that he was going to waste time beating the hell out of a dangerous villain. If he were caught by surprise, Cold could probably still kill him. The power they were fighting at was that intense; one slip up meant certain death.

Gohan lifted his hand up and took careful aim at the demon's impact site, bracing his wrist with his free hand. A sphere of cobalt ki spiraled into existence at the end of his palm. Lightning tracked through the air around it and screeched as the blast was freed from its cage.

Cold, who had just gotten to his feet, couldn't help but to frown. A thin line of purple blood trickled down from his bottom lip to his chin, a sign that the Super Saiyan's strikes truly were powerful enough to kill him... at least in his second form.

The blast made heavy impact hardly a second later and detonated across the landscape. Rocky shrapnel scratched itself into the skyline and fell upon the Earth like absolvent rain, crashing back down into the desert and shattering into even smaller shards. A gargantuan cloud of heat and smoke rolled over the blast zone, obscuring the remains of King Cold from view and allowing Gohan no vision of his opponent.

* * *

A short distance from where the Super Saiyan's blast had made impact, Vegeta and the others had once again taken cover. The strength of the attack was obvious, but had he not telegraphed it, none of them would have had time to escape. It was almost as if he was fighting with them in mind, but as they all knew, their powers were suppressed as low as possible.

The still uncleared veil of smoke spread over the landscape like a malevolent fog, obscuring King Cold from view. From inside of the smoke, the mad king's energy signature beat like a telltale heart, fluctuating back and forth between his maximum power and what seemed to be nonexistence.

"It feels like he's wounded," Yamcha said.

Nobody said anything for what felt like an eternity.

Krillin wanted to speak up and say that he'd felt something similar on Namek when Frieza had transformed the first time. A furtive glance to Gohan confirmed his fears; the boy was staring intently at the cloud of smoke. A single bead of sweat was falling down from the left side of his face, practically beating its way across his cheek. He was worried.

"I don't think so," Krillin replied.

"His energy isn't really getting any lower. It's getting suppressed because he's trying to transform, but he's bad at powering down. He just doesn't want the other guy to know."

Yamcha wallowed, but didn't move from his place behind cover. He wanted to bolt up and warn the stranger in the sky, to at least tell him that the battle was about to get that much harder. He wished that he could help or fight harder... but he'd learned the hard way how easy it was to be put down by monsters like King Cold. He'd barely been able to follow the other guy's movements. If he took off to help him, he'd just get in the way.

"How could he do that? Frieza couldn't suppress his strength at all," said Tien, interjecting.

Piccolo was the next one to speak up, his voice harsh and commanding.

"This guy isn't Frieza. It'd be foolish to think that he followed the same rules."

"We'll be okay," Krillin said.

"If this guy is as good as I think he is, he's noticed that King Cold's up to something. I wouldn't trust that guy for a minute."

* * *

Gohan frowned from his perch in the sky. Cold should have gotten up by now. His energy was still pulsating from his crater, jumping up and down like a hyper fatal seesaw. What was he doing down there, literally digging his own grave while the smoke cleared?

The Super Saiyan descended through the air and touched down on the rock face across from the slowly dissipating cloud of smoke. He could just make out a faint purple glow coming from inside the thinning veil, pulsating and expanding with every fluctuation of the King's terrible power. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought that the demon was transforming.

That wasn't possible, was it?

His father had never given King Cold the chance to transform, back in the original timeline. If he had, things probably wouldn't have gone so smoothly. In fact, if King Cold's third form netted him as much power as Frieza's had, he wasn't even sure if his father could have won that battle.

The dust settled into place just as a spiked tail slammed hard into the already shattered ground. Gohan's already dark expression only grew more severe as he caught sight of the beast's upper body, which had expanded and grown more muscular. His head, formerly armored and small, was now large and bulbous. Bony protrusions jutted out from the sides of Cold's skull, blade-like and lethal. His already massive body had only grown from the transformation.

The most astounding change was the leap in power. With his transformation complete, Cold put no effort into hiding the full extent of his new strength. He understood, in that moment, why his father had ended the battle before Cold had the chance to showcase such strength.

Like a fool, he had assumed that Cold didn't have another transformation.

Such a thing just hadn't come up during his first encounter with the legendary tyrant. The conflict had been brutal and fast, but once his father had arrived, everything had ended quickly.

"Now then," the King shouted from his place on the ground.

"How about we begin in earnest?"

Cold vanished and reappeared in the air beside Gohan, who didn't even have the time to flinch before the beast's massive fist exploded against the side of his face and laid him out in the air. The hybrid cried out in pain and recovered a few feet away, but Cold had already disappeared again.

Gohan's gaze flickered from left to right, but the demon had materialized above him - something he realized just a second too late. His arms shot up reflexively in an attempt to block the demon's next attack, but Cold's fists buried themselves into the top of his skull and knocked him out of the sky. His body collided with the rock face and skidded over the earth, leaving a rocky trail that spread out around him in his wake.

He rolled backwards onto his shoulders and then onto his feet and reassessed the situation; Cold was already coming for him, descending from the sky with all the wrath of a furious tyrant. Energy welled up in the hybrid's hands and swirled at his fingertips as he prepared himself and stepped forward, unleashing a monstrous wave of crackling energy that ripped through the air toward the demon.

With a mighty roar, Cold smacked the blast aside and powered forward to wrap the fingers of his left hand around Gohan's face. He squeezed tightly and lifted the struggling warrior off of his feet with a macabre grin, showcasing his sadism and rage.

"Not so strong now, are you?"

Gohan grunted and lashed out with his left leg; his boot collided with the demon's side and forced him to stumble, but succeeded only in earning him more of the beast's ire. Cold grunted and rammed the half-saiyan's head into the rocky floor, creating a crumbling tomb of rock that held him in place. He stomped down hard against the rock - but Gohan managed to roll to the side just in time, the folds of his gi now laced with rubble and the insides of his weighted shirt littered with stony shards of rock.

"I wouldn't get so cocky if I were you," he said, sliding forward and unleashing on his opponent with a furious barrage of left handed punches. Cold swerved in and out of each blew with a practiced grace, his eyes tracking the punches as they flew. From what Gohan could tell, the King's mad power was mostly for show. He knew how to fight, but he didn't seem to have received any formal training.

With that in mind, Gohan stepped in closer and led with his right hand, thrusting it out hard toward Cold's gut. The blow bounced off of the demon's armored body, but succeeded in knocking the beast backward. Determined to keep his momentum, Gohan kicked out with his left leg, but Cold ducked underneath the strike and lashed out with a wild looking uppercut.

The blow was too fast to follow, but Gohan managed to tilt his body to the left and it failed to make impact. Technique or no technique, finding a way to put the Frost Demon down was going to require a little more than the strength he had at his disposal. Cold wasn't exactly on par with the Androids, but then again, neither was Gohan.

He pivoted in place and kept his eyes on Cold's, watching the areas that Cold was monitoring. From what he could tell, Cold was just following his hands and feet, hoping to dodge the strikes as they came. It seemed that he wasn't well acquainted with melee combat. He had probably never trained for it.

Testing the waters, Gohan's left hand swiveled in an arc and plunged forward.

Surely enough, Cold's eyes followed the strike as it traveled through the air and whiffed off to the left.

"Hah!"

Gohan swirled in place and buried his left boot in the demon's cheek. He grinned as the behemoth stumbled back again, this time with a new scuffmark on the side of his face.

He wasn't going to give up just because his opponent was a little stronger than he was; that was a condition he'd been forced to live with his entire life.

He stepped in and swung with his right hand, but Cold batted the strike away and replied with a left handed jab. The two men battled back and forth in place, unleashing furious flurries of blows that rifled through the air and bore holes through the rock around them, but neither managed to make a mark on their opponent for what seemed like an eternity.

The equilibrium was broken when one of Gohan's strikes went just a little too wide. Cold lashed out with his right hand and softened the half-saiyan's guard, leaving him open for a left handed jab that sent him reeling over the ground. A spurt of red sprayed through the air from his nose and fell to the ground, where it found itself quickly evaporated by the heat of their still-blazing auras.

He recovered quickly and retreated at top speed, leading Cold on a merry chase across the wastelands.

The two figures blurred and sped over the shattered earth, their bodies clashing with magnanimous booms as they battled for desperate supremacy. Despite Cold's edge in speed, Gohan's refined technique was allowing him to hold his own and beat back the more telegraphed parts of the demon's assault. Meanwhile, punch after punch crashed into the demon's chest and face, leaving thin scuffs and black pockmarks against the King's white armor, marking the spots where arcs of lightning had trailed off of the hybrid's knuckles.

Gohan flipped backward over a particularly nasty kick and cocked his arm back, summoning a flare of glittering golden energy that writhed and wriggled around his fingertips. Electricity shimmered in the air around the borders of the blast as Cold closed the gap between them once again, unaware of the danger that Gohan held in his left hand.

Cold reached out for the hybrid's face once again and Gohan shoved his hand at the beast's chest in reaction. With a muffled cry, he called out the name of his signature technique.

"Masenko!"

The blast detonated against Cold's armor at point blank range. A cloud of billowing smoke unfurled from the point of impact and surrounded the two warriors. Cold cried out in pain and released Gohan's face, allowing the smaller warrior to dart back through the smoky cloud and take his place at the top of a particularly dilapidated looking pillar.

He doubted that the Masenko was going to be enough to slow Cold down for long enough that he could escape... but even if it would have, there was no way he could just flee the battlefield, like he had against the Androids. For the first time in years, he was no longer fighting just to buy time. He was fighting a battle for supremacy that would only end in victory or defeat. There was no tie to be had against a person of Cold's type.

He sank into a defensive stance almost reflexively, his gaze narrowed and eyes alive. He was just going to have to persevere and outlast his opponent, which, if anything, was a comforting thought. He didn't have limitless endurance, but years of fighting cyborgs had left him with a wealth of stamina. He wasn't going to tire out any time soon.

He had too much to lose to tire out only a few hours after he'd arrived.

A thin beam of violet energy burst out from the depths of the cloud and tore through the air over Gohan's right shoulder. He gasped and flipped backward as a dozen more blasts followed in the wake of the first beam, each one rattling onward through the air like rifle shots loosed from the barrel of a gun.

Gohan, despite his surprise, definitely recognized the technique. Frieza had tried something similar, after all. He knew that if even one of those beams made contact that it'd rip right through him. As the thought crossed his mind, one of Cold's rays bore through his left shoulder and sent him stumbling onto the lip of the pillar he'd been standing on.

"Damn!"

Gohan let himself fall and recovered on the ground behind the pillar. A few more beams raced by overhead, but the rate of fire seemed to have slowed down after he'd cried out in pain. Did Cold think that he'd met his mark?

The hybrid lined up along the wall of the pillar and scooched to the side until he could peek around it. The cloud of smoke from earlier had been scattered to the winds, leaving a significantly angrier looking King Cold to stand in the same place he had where Gohan's Masenko had made impact.

Inhaling through his nose and exhaling out of his mouth, the hybrid watched with interest as the frost demon surveyed his handiwork; it was obvious that he couldn't see Gohan anymore. If he had, he probably would have fired off another blast in an attempt to finish him off. As strong as the death beam was, it wasn't strong enough to blast him apart at the seams. It wasn't even explosive. Instead, the attack was meant more to disable an opponent or pierce through the heart instantly.

Was Cold cocky enough to think he'd gotten a heart shot?

The demon floated toward the pillar with suspicion rife in his eyes. He was a lot more careful than his son was. Gohan slowly rolled around the side of the rock as Cold touched down and knelt at the top of the stony tower of rock, apparently investigating the situation.

Energy rippled along the sides of Gohan's arms while he clambered up his side of the rock, already preparing to fire on his opponent. If he could catch Cold by surprise, there was a good chance that he could even the odds... but even just climbing up a pile of rocks exacerbated the ache in his shoulder, which was now bleeding pretty profusely. He was going to have to end things quickly so that he could get the wound treated.

When his fingertips touched the top of the pillar, Gohan exhaled and flipped the rest of the way up. His hands came together over his head and glittered with fatal purpose; the energy that'd gathered along his arms ran down the rails of his muscles and coalesced into a ball that surrounded both of his wrists.

Cold turned his head, still knelt, at the last possible second.

He didn't have the time to react before a torrent of glistering ki blasted him off of the side of the pillar and swallowed him whole. It tore through the air and ripped through the earth, leaving a trail of crumbling rock in its wake. The energy whined and screamed as it sliced through the rock and carved out a swathe of unmistakable destruction.

The pillar of rock that the two fighters were standing on had been eviscerated by the force of the blast and forced apart, leaving Gohan to hang in the air, his breathing haggard and shallow. The technique had been one that he'd learned from Piccolo, in his youth: the Gekiretsu Madan. Typically, it was a barrage of energy unleashed in sequence, but over the years, he had perfected the release and learned how to unleash all of the pent up ki at once.

He ascended higher into the air to get a better vantage point, his eyes scanning the rubble for some sight of Cold or whatever remained of him. Had his attack managed to catch the tyrant off guard enough to be a kill shot?

A crackling beam of violet light broke through the air and bore straight through the right side of his chest, filling his world with a blinding pain that he'd never known before. His left hand shot to the place of impact - as if it could somehow take the wound back - and lingered over the now growing blossom of red that stained his gi.

He shuddered, once, and tumbled.

Gohan fell from the sky in the form of a glittering golden streak, his descent clearly marked against the horizon. He hadn't seen it coming; the blast had been too fast for him to follow. Unable to stabilize his fall, the half-saiyan glanced down at his new wound, his pupils shaking and his vision blurry. He'd been so convinced in his own ability to keep up with Cold that he hadn't even entertained the idea that Cold had been toying with his food.

His body slammed into the rocks below, its impact carving out a gigantic crater in the already ruined earth. The rubble settled in around him and entombed him, leaving him to lay, unconscious, in his earthen bed.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of approaching footsteps forced his eyes open and roused him from his slumber.

"Is that all you have, boy? You should have taken my offer," Cold said.

Gohan exhaled, long and slow, and rose to his feet. Cold stood at the very edge of the crater's border, staring down at him with the eyes of a wrathful judicator. Tendrils of lightning wrapped themselves around his body as he assessed the half-dead half-saiyan before him. He could see the bloodstain on the front of his target's already tattered gi. The battle was not set to last much longer.

"Do you have any last words? Do you have any family I should inform of your valiant demise?"

The King's words were sarcastic, and went unanswered. A wreath of burning embers filled the air around Gohan as he once again tried to power up to his maximum strength, but even that exertion felt like too much. This wasn't like his battles against the androids; there was no running away. He was going to have to fight Cold until the bitter end, no matter how things shook out.

His father would have done the same.

"I seem to remember my son saying that you had a savior coming soon; perhaps I'll wait for him before I cast this backwater planet into the abyss."

Gohan shot forward over the battered earth and swung hard for Cold's face, but the tyrant ducked beneath the strike and whacked Gohan across the left cheek to send him flying through the air once again. Without hesitation, Cold gave chase and caught up to the still reeling hybrid - and dropped a single elbow deep into Gohan's gut, knocking him back to the floor.

The blood was pouring out in earnest now, but Gohan paid his dropping stamina no heed. He grunted and rolled over the ground and brought himself back up onto a knee. Energy swirled to life at his fingertips as he cupped them at his side, but Cold had already set upon him again.

"Give up, boy!"

The King's foot slammed hard into Gohan's wounded chest and sent him tumbling, ass over end, across the ground. It was when he finally came to a stop that the pain finally caught up with him; he had to think of something, he had to think of something fast or he was going to die.

He couldn't risk using much more of his energy. If he did that, he was going to pass out before he got the chance to warn anybody about anything.

"Graaaaaaaaaah!"

Gohan surged up from his place on the ground and struck out against Cold's gut - but the King's body didn't so much as bend forward. He glanced up, in both fear and furious defiance, to see that the Tyrant was staring down at him, his own expression full of disgust.

He lashed out with an untraceable backhand and sent Gohan skittering across the battlefield, where he finally came to rest at the base of a particularly broken boulder. His breathing had been shallow before, but it came now in ragged gasps, as if every breath was a laborious, herculean effort. Everything swam before his eyes: the past, where he had failed, the future, where he was going to fail, and the present, where he was in the process of failing.

"D-damn it," he whispered, an instant before Cold's foot slammed hard into his chest and sent him deep into the boulder he'd been leaning against.

"You would do well to remember this lesson in your next life, boy," he said.

Phosphorescent lines of purple and violet danced before Gohan's eyes and wrapped themselves around the King's outstretched hand, where they coalesced into a throbbing ball of energy. He was going for the finishing blow.

Gohan tried to move, but the weight of the tyrant's massive foot kept him in place, pinning him to his grave like a ribbon on a bulletin board.

The ball doubled in size, and Gohan's head slumped down over his chest; the golden aura that had been raging around him earlier had been reduced to a wavering flame, which flickered gently in place around him in the face of Cold's fearsome power.

"May it serve you well!"

Cold didn't have the time to laugh before a massive swell of blue fire swallowed him whole and filled Gohan's blurry vision; a familiar cry rang out over the landscape, determined and dangerous, and lingered in his tired mind for what felt like an eternity.

"Kamehameha!"

Streamers of falling rock smouldered as they fell through the air in the blast's wake, torn like wartime banners of defeat in the path of an unwavering army. A lone figure stood in front of Gohan, his strong back casting a shadow over the downed warrior and protecting him from any further harm. A golden maelstrom raged in an eternal storm around him, which rippled outward and bit at the ground around them.

The figure watched as his blast knocked their now mutual opponent back and away, before slowly turning to extend his hand to the still-wounded Super Saiyan on the ground.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, catching Gohan's hand as it fumbled out in an attempt to reach him and pulling him up out of the boulder's innards.

"I thought you had him for a second there. Once I realized what was going on, I got here as soon as I could. Can you walk on your own? Some friends of mine are hidden in the rocks somewhere here, I can sense them not too far away; seems like they were about to try to intervene too. If you can get over to them, they should help you heal up. I think I can handle this guy long enough for you to get back into the fight."

When Gohan didn't immediately answer, the other man turned back in the direction of Cold's energy, which put his distant anger on display for the world. It was overbearing and seemingly infinite, but the second Super Saiyan didn't seem to care. He patted Gohan once on the shoulder and stepped forward into the trail his blast had carved through the ground, grinning like a madman.

Despite the insanity of the situation, the younger man nodded, and shuffled off toward the rocky outcrops in the distance. The battle wasn't over yet, but it was about to get much easier. Cold was strong and that was terrifying, but he had never seen the full power that a Super Saiyan could bring to the table... Gohan was strong, but the man that seemed so determined to face Cold down by himself was the strongest fighter that he'd ever known.

"Y-yeah, I'll... I'll be... be right back," Gohan said, his voice weak and feeble. He didn't know if a senzu bean was going to be enough to help him, but it was probably his best bet for getting back into the battle. Then again, he wasn't even sure if he'd be of much help.

If anyone could stop Cold's rampage by themselves, it was Son Goku.

* * *

_A/N: Originally, this chapter was going to be entitled "The Future," and it was going to deal with the backstory of how Gohan arrived in the present and how Bulma managed to complete her time machine so early. After reading some of the reviews and looking back at both this chapter and the aforementioned one, I decided to post this one first, since it offered a much better stopping point to take a break and look into the backstory behind the events of A Harbinger's Call._

_I'll be posting Chapter Four: The Future, on Wednesday. After that, I'll post another actiony chapter on Sunday, like I did last week, and decide whether or not I'll be posting chapters primarily on Sundays or primarily on Wednesdays. Do you guys have any questions? Do you have any suggestions? Don't be afraid to leave a review asking or informing me of your opinions on the scheduling thing, the story so far, or... really, anything._

_Power Levels for this chapter are as follows:_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan (Arrival) - 155,000,000_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan (Wounded) - 139,500,000_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan (Gekiretsu Madan) - 193,750,000_

_King Cold (Form 2) - 135,000,000_

_King Cold (Form 3; Warm Up) - 175,000,000_

_King Cold (Form 3) - 200,000,000_

_As you can see, King Cold, while warming up to the power of his third form, was only a little bit ahead of Gohan in strength... but once he stopped playing around and got a little bit angrier, his power spiked all the way to full and he pretty much just curbstomped our hero into the ground (literally, like four times). _


	4. To The Future

_**Age 775 - Three Years before the events of Arrival**_

* * *

There were a few things that Bulma knew would always be true about Son Gohan.

One, he slept very loudly. He snored throughout the entire night, tossing and turning the entire time. She'd had to reinforce the frame of his bed more than once to make sure that it didn't break again. In fact, maintenance on the guest room had become one of her relaxing habits, but the same was true for pretty much any room Gohan made good use of. The gravity chamber that had once belonged to her husband had become his new training room, whenever he had the time to use it, and the kitchen was always kept reasonably well stocked for whenever he had the time to visit.

The second thing that she'd noticed about him was that he _always_ swung by at the most convenient times. He was eerily similar to his father in that regard, always swooping in at the right moment to save the day... or lighten the mood during an awkwardly silent dinner with her son.

Trunks, as he grew older, had come to understand the state of the world a lot better than she'd have liked. Every day, he holed himself up in the outer gardens and shadowboxed with himself, just like his father had. The only difference was that Vegeta had been doing it in three hundred times Earth's gravity and Trunks was doing it in literally the safest place possible.

Bulma was not particularly surprised when Gohan swung by after a long day and agreed to help her work on her blueprints for a possible time machine, in fact, she'd almost been banking on it. Because of his mother's influence, Gohan had grown up with an almost inhuman work ethic. Every time he found a new subject, he spent days delving into it and devouring it until he'd come to understand everything he could.

To some people, it was probably odd or unusual for someone like _Gohan_, the son of the world's greatest martial artist, to hole himself up in a library and get lost in a book... but Bulma understood exactly why he'd throw himself into things like that.

She'd done the same thing after Vegeta had been lost to the Androids. For a long time, she'd felt like she wouldn't be able to do anything ever again. First, she'd lost Goku... then more of her friends - and finally her husband. She had only survived because of her ability to work through a crisis.

Bulma perked up when she heard him come in, literally bumping his boot on the corner of the doorframe as he came through the doorway.

"Hm? Oh, hey Gohan!"

She waved her pen in his direction and grinned, signalling him to come closer to the long desk she was working at. Really, it was more like a workbench mixed in with a library table; papers were strewn about the surface of the wood without much care, left to linger while their owner worked on other pages. Gohan picked one of them up when he sat down opposite Bulma at the desk, silently enjoying the fact that she'd placed a chair for him before he'd even arrived.

"Hey Bulma, what's up? You said you had some ideas you wanted to work on?"

Bulma turned back to her work and nodded, passing some of her notes over the table to Gohan.

He'd come in expecting a few notes and scribbled down designs; what he got was an actual, legitimate set of blueprints for a supposedly functioning time machine. He blinked and put down the page of random notes that he'd been looking at, sifting through the blueprints with a childlike curiosity.

"These seem like a little more than ideas, Bulma," he muttered, as he examined the inner mechanisms behind what appeared to be the legs of the machine. The whole thing seemed to be egg-shaped, with legs built to support it, which was simple enough, he supposed. The rest of it was the complex part. He didn't understand most of the terms on the paper, much less how they were relevant to the time machine itself. "I don't know if I can help with this."

Bulma didn't waste time looking up from her notes.

"I wouldn't say that," she said.

"You've always been a pretty quick study, Gohan. I know you've been checking out some of the books from my library while I'm out."

Gohan felt his cheeks redden, embarrassed at the fact that he'd apparently been sloppy. He huffed and let his elbow rest on the table so that he could examine the page he was looking at a little bit better.

As if she could literally sense his embarrassment, Bulma spoke up before the silence could get too overwhelming.

"Trunks. He was up late one night and saw you sneaking out the window with a few books. You know, he actually came to me to find out what you were reading? I swear, if you started cleaning up around here he'd probably do it in a heartbeat..."

Gohan didn't laugh, but he did exhale a little faster than he should've. Bulma wasn't lying. He'd noticed Trunks starting to imitate him lately. From what he'd heard from Bulma, he'd even been watching security tapes of Gohan's time in the gravity chamber so that he could copy his form. That said, it didn't seem to be working out all that well for him. Like always, Trunks's strength was above average... but it wasn't really high enough to cause much of a stir. He was probably about as strong as Krillin had been during the battles on Namek.

"Yeah, that's not too surprising. I mean, I emulate my dad a lot," he said.

He was actually surprised that, for once, he hadn't come over in his training clothes... at least, not the ones he usually wore. His outfit consisted mainly of a black version of his father's stylized undershirt and some baggy pants, which were more for comfort than anything else. Of course, the undershirt wasn't weighted, because that probably would've been inconvenient, or at least, he figured as much.

"You are starting to look a lot like him. You're always wearing that orange and blue, and your hair's pretty much the spitting image of his," she agreed, nodding and looking back up at him for the first time since he'd arrived. "But that's not what we're here to talk about."

She put her pen down on the table and leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms out over her head and yawning loudly.

"I've been working on this for a while. It started out as a pet project, after Goku died... but lately, it's been seeming a lot more realistic. The whole premise is, you know, _time machine._ It'd let us fix things that went wrong, maybe even save your Dad... I mean, we did come up with a vaccine for the heart virus not too long after he passed."

Gohan blinked and looked down at the blueprints in his hand with a renewed interest. He hadn't really thought about doing something like that before - but then again, he'd never really been a scientist. He developed a reading habit because his mother had kept prodding him.

"Bulma, if we saved my dad... the Androids probably wouldn't exist right now," he said, trying to hide the anxiety behind his words. Still, he was impressed... and he couldn't hide that. It showed in the way he held her notes, reverently, like he was suddenly afraid to rip them.

"That's what I'm getting at!"

Bulma passed another page over to Gohan, who took it without thinking. He didn't have to look up at her to see the smile plastered across her face, but he did anyway. It was, he noted, a nice change of pace.

"Think about it, Gohan! We could do so much with this. We could save your dad, we could prevent all the problems that're killing us now just by hitting him with a vaccine before the virus hits. Wouldn't that be great?"

He could tell that she was excited. Still, he wasn't really sure how to react. In a lot of ways, her plan _was_ awesome. There were a lot of things that they could put right with a time machine and some clever plans. With that in mind though, there were also a lot of things that could go wrong - or not change at all.

"Well, I mean... I don't know as much about this stuff as you do, Bulma, but something tells me that nothing's going to be that easy. Everything I've read tells me that time would try to preserve itself, at least, in one line," he explained.

"Time preservation, chronological protection conjecture... I know what you're talking about, but there's other things we could do too! Even if our timeline doesn't change, we could bring Goku back here! Then _he_ could beat the Androids! I'm sure that the two of you would be enough to do it, right?"

Gohan wasn't so sure. He was pretty strong... but at his current strength, the Androids were still mopping the floor with him. He could fight maybe one of them on pretty even terms though, probably long enough for his Dad to beat one of them, assuming he could. He'd always said that if anyone could beat the cyborgs that it would've been Dad.

"Maybe. What about the idea of a multiverse though? What if this creates more universes where my dad just never comes home and everybody dies anyway?"

Gohan put down the sheet of paper - which had been a list of materials needed for the creation of the time machine itself - and grabbed another one on the table labeled "Suggested Reading." He could only imagine that it was a list of books Bulma wanted him to read before he started contributing to the project. Deep down, he sorta wished that she had some of her old researchers back. They would have been much more useful.

"That's unlikely, but I'll explain to you why before I say anything else," she said, tenting her fingers together as he skimmed the list with his eyes.

"Let's say we've got a box of oranges, right? We need the box of oranges to come to _our_ timeline. So we use the time machine to go back in time and grab a box of oranges from another timeline. We take the oranges we grabbed and clone them so that we can grow oranges, and we send the oranges back to the timeline they came from. Do you know why that's the way it is?"

She took Gohan's blank stare as a no.

"It's because, like you said, timelines are going to try to preserve themselves. When we use the time machine, it's probably going to create another timeline - the timeline we'll be getting the oranges from - for us to travel to. Then, when one of us goes back, we'll be accessing that same timeline. The universe isn't going to create a bunch of new timelines just because we took some oranges. It's going to take us to the same timeline we went back to originally, because that's the simplest way for it to work."

Bulma paused, still grinning, and subtly reminded herself that Gohan's knowledge of physics was relatively rudimentary. She wanted to just make a joke that the universe was one big lazy office worker, sorting all things in the same cabinet - but somehow she felt like her brand of humor would be lost on him.

"Make sense?" she asked.

"Uhm, I guess so?"

Gohan didn't look convinced. Tempted, sure, but tempted wasn't _sold_. Still, Bulma could practically see the lights firing up behind his eyes, excited by the prospect of reuniting with his old friends. It was almost like the idea seemed too good to be true for him, or too convenient.

"But if I change the timeline, would I still be able to go back to it? I mean, let's say I put down _another_ box of oranges. Does that effect anything?"

Bulma shook her head and let her hands rest on the top of the table.

"Not really. Obviously there'll be ripple effects along that timeline, but if we're using the multiverse theory, then we wouldn't be affected... assuming things work that way. Right now the only thing that's suggesting our timeline wouldn't change if we saved Goku from the heart virus would be the paradox protection behind it. If we saved him then we'd never go back in the first place," she explained.

Gohan, who seemed to be catching on, nodded solemnly. He understood a little, now. If they went back in time, there were two possibilities. Either the loops they'd created would resolve themselves, or they wouldn't be loops at all. If the universe were protecting itself from a paradox, it would do what he'd suggested earlier and create another timeline, meaning that he could pretty much do whatever he wanted without it having much of an effect. Naturally, that was a kind of double edged sword.

He opted not to think about it too hard.

"So what's this list of books you want me to look at? Is it just recommended reading on time travel? I know a bit about physics already," he said, sheepishly.

Bulma let him look back down to the list in his hands before she answered him, aware that he'd already read the title and was asking more to be sure than anything else. Gohan was a lot smarter than his father was, in the conventional sense. Goku wouldn't have gotten the analogy any way she tried to put it. He had always been a doer more than he'd been a thinker. In some ways, that was a trait she'd always admired. In other ways, it was literally the single most infuriating thing she'd ever had to deal with.

She still couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to marry Chi-Chi without giving it any forethought.

Then again, maybe that'd been a good thing. Gohan had turned out alright, demons from outer space and cyborg terror aside. He was a smart kid.

"Yeah, pretty much. It has a list of the more important titles you'll need to look at if you want to work with me on this. I know you don't really know much about any of this now, but I'm sure that you'll be caught up in a month or two."

Gohan laughed, once, and put the list down.

"That's thinking a little highly of me, isn't it? I'm not a genius, Bulma. I get that I'm pretty smart, but I don't think I could keep up with you on something like this. I don't even know if I'll be around long enough to use this thing," he said.

"Gohan, I can't think of anyone else that I'd trust _to_ keep up with me on this. Even when you were younger, you probably could've been an entry level researcher here. You were like six years old and figuring out how rockets worked and cicadas mated in Spring, or something. I think that you could probably figure this out if you took some time to yourself and looked over the material."

Gohan struggled not to correct her on the cicada mating point - as the specific instance she was referencing had involved him describing to her in great detail how certain species of cicada had a tendency to molt in Springtime - but let out a heavy sigh nevertheless.

"Bulma, I dunno... Do you really think this'll work? I think that the machine itself is fine, but if we don't have any of the science behind it figured out... how're we going to make it function? What's it going to be powered by? What if time keeps going while I'm gone and the Androids find you?"

Bulma felt her fist clench over the table, letting her knuckles rap silently against the wood. She could tell that she'd reeled him in already. He was asking questions because he wanted to answer them, not because he was concerned that they couldn't be answered. She just had to put him in the boat and everything was going to be set in stone.

"Gohan, even if time kept trucking on while you were gone, I somehow doubt that the Androids would suddenly come for me and Trunks. I'm pretty sure that they _know_ you live around us and they haven't exactly spent time tracking you down. They're demons looking for fun, not predators looking for food."

Her point was pretty solid.

Gohan puttered his lips and leaned back in his chair. His heart was racing at the thought of saving his father or going back and stopping the Androids before they could become a threat... or bringing him back and stopping them together. He could see his friends, tell them the things that he'd never gotten the chance to tell them.

He adjusted in his seat, suddenly, like he'd startled himself, as the thoughts continued to come all at once.

What if he could use the dragonballs from the past to change things in the future? What if he could figure out some way to get his friends back in _his_ timeline? Could he really set things right that easily? Had the Androids not killed Piccolo, they could have gathered the dragonballs in a month, tops. He could move way faster than the speed of sound without even unsuppressing his power level.

"Bulma..." he breathed, still nervous.

"I think you've got yourself a new partner."

* * *

_A/N: This here is a decent start to the exposition that'll be expounded upon in the less-actiony parts of the next chapter. I'll be releasing backstory chapters infrequently until the original, destroyed timeline is caught back up to the point where Gohan goes back in time. This should only take about three more chapters - of a slightly larger length than this one - or so._

_One thing worth noting is that this version of Gohan, the one I'm portraying, is currently weaker than he should be. He's still not sold on his destiny, despite the fact that he's forced into his role as savior of the Earth, which is one that he'd originally always wanted to fulfill. It's another thing to note that, in this chapter, Gohan is only like fifteen years old. He's got a rudimentary knowledge of the things Bulma's asking for him and the knowledge that his ability to learn is way beyond that of other people his age. Time travel is both realistic and interesting for him._

_In the chapters to come, we'll see how far that optimism gets him and how long it lasts. Challenges aren't just going to disappear; in fact, because of the fact that he's meddling with a timeline he shouldn't be in, things are going to get a little more complicated than they were in canon. Timeline protection theory is an understatement for the things that poor Gohan is going to have to deal with. Already, divergences have popped up - namely, Cold having a third form, which we'll see more of in the next chapter. What else might he encounter?_

_Power levels for this chapter are as follows:_

_Mirai Bulma - 4_

_Mirai Gohan (suppressed) - 20_

_Mirai Gohan (full power; age 15) - 3,000,000_


	5. Climb

Son Goku watched as the stranger, still wreathed in gold and flickering tendrils of violet lightning, limped his way across the rock face to where the rest of his friends were hiding. He was glad that he'd managed to make it in time to make a difference, but he couldn't help but feel like the worst of the fighting wasn't over yet. The stranger had put up a pretty good fight so far, but the power of the demon he'd just blasted away wasn't something that could be overcome by hard work and willpower alone.

Yamcha and Krillin sprang out from their hiding place in a nearby rock bed and pulled the stranger in with them, granting him a moment of reprieve from the bloody struggle that he'd been fighting.

With a curt nod, Goku turned back to face his opponent, his eyes scanning the rocks for any sight of the downed frost demon. He had managed to unleash one of his most powerful techniques at point blank range, which seemed to have knocked the demon's power down at least a little bit. It was obvious that whoever Goku's new enemy was, he hadn't expected to be taking any more damage.

Still, the demon's strength was at least a head above his own. The battle wasn't going to be that much easier until the new guy came back into the fight to help him out - assuming, of course, that Gohan and the others had thought to bring senzu beans for their battle against Frieza.

The Earth's mightiest savior watched as his foe rose from the rubble left in the wake of his almighty blast, his body covered in burns and caked with heavy layers of dirt. Dried blood lingered against the white of his face, and one of the ridges along his bulbous head seemed to have broken off.

"You - you must have been the one that the Earthling was waiting for?"

Cold's words came out in haggard, dogged gasps, but Goku wasn't particularly surprised. Smirking, the Saiyan scratched at the side of his left cheek.

"Yeah. I guess you could call me their ringer," he said.

Already, he could feel the adrenaline surging through his body. Beneath his bravado, he was shaking with excitement, forced to rely on the nervous energy lingering in his legs to keep himself rooted to the ground. He had to wait it out a little longer. He knew that the stranger had already defeated Frieza, who had at least four transformations... but he didn't know if the guy who he'd just blasted through a sea of rocky pillars had one more hidden up his sleeve.

"Hn."

A gust of precocious wind played over the battlefield as the frost demon's rage became more apparent. He had been disgraced too many times in just one day to let the Earthlings get away with their already abhorrent behavior.

"My name is King Cold," the frost demon said, throwing the remains of his once flowing cape from his shoulders and letting the cloth be swept away in the wind. "I believe you're the one that put such a strong fear into my son? I can certainly see how."

"It is unfortunate that your strength won't matter for much longer."

Goku's fists clenched tightly at his sides in response to the King's words. He'd expected about as much; like father, like son after all. A gushing torrent of energy blossomed outward like living fire from around Goku's boots and spread until it encompassed his entire body. The power, once foreign to him, felt intoxicating. Like a potent liquor, it ran through his body and liberated him of his fears, granting him the strength he needed to hold his ground against a tyrant as fearsome as King Cold.

Goku vanished in place without a word, materializing at the King's side and burying his elbow deep in the demon's face. Cold lurched backward and reached up to stop the flow of blood with his left hand, but by the time he opened his eyes, Goku had already disappeared again.

His right knee crashed into the tyrant's chin like a meteor flying in reverse, forcing the already infuriated Cold to trip backwards over the shattered ground.

Cold managed to regain his composure just in time to duck beneath Goku's third strike, tracking the Saiyan's strike with his eyes and simultaneously lashing out with a fierce, straight-handed punch that exploded against Goku's gut. The Saiyan reeled backward through the air and cocked his right hand at his waist, his expression now decidedly more fearsome, and unleashed a shimmering ball of golden energy toward the demon's chest.

The King shot to the side just in time for the blast to go wide and backhanded Goku across the face without mercy. The Saiyan grunted in pain and steeled himself in order to parry an incoming jab, returning the favor with a vicious left hook to the face.

Fighting to ignore the pain, Cold reached for Goku's fist before he could pull it back - and pulled the Saiyan over his head as if he were a ragdoll in the hands of a brutish toddler. Cold slammed the Super Saiyan into the ground hard and released him... only to bring the bottom of his reptillian heel down on the man's nose with all the force he could muster.

Goku reached up for the King's heel and gripped it tightly with both hands, all too aware of the pain wracking his own body. The battle had barely started, and already he could feel it adding up. Despite that, he didn't feel very tired. The excitement of combat was keeping him fresh and relatively awake, even in the face of the tyrant's wrath.

"Haaaaaaaaaah!"

Goku's scream wormed its way out from beneath Cold's foot and shook the sheetrock around them. The glimmering aura of golden energy surrounding him expanded with a sickening crack and he blasted off through the rock floor, wrenching himself free of Cold's grip.

Cold stumbled forward as Goku reared up behind him - and straightened the demon's spine with a vicious punch. He struck twice, and then three times, forcing the King to advance forward unwillingly over the desert wasteland with every desperate blow. He had been about to bury his boot deep into the tyrant's back when the King's tail struck out and grabbed him around the ankle.

"Gah, not again!"

The King slung Goku around his side and bashed his elbow against the front of the Super Saiyan's face, forcing him to go temporarily limp. Then, as if satisfied, he lobbed the golden warrior into the air.

Goku had barely been hanging in the sky for a second when a lance of crackling ki exploded through the air in his direction. Cold was hoping to get a clean shot on him, just like he had the stranger. Placing his index and middle finger against his forehead, Goku vanished an instant before the blast would have gored him and reappeared at the King's side.

"Over here!"

Cold turned to respond to the Saiyan's taunts - and was blasted backward by a ferocious gust of wind and energy that sent him tumbling over the ground.

He dug his heels into the rock face and came skidding to a halt twenty yards away, his already staggered breathing coming out a lot more like fractured gasps than actual breaths.

Goku, on the other hand, still seemed to be in relatively good condition. A trail of thick, coppery blood was running from his left nostril and streaming down over his chin, and the Saiyan's armor had sustained a few surface cracks... but he didn't seem to be experiencing much trouble overall.

Still, Cold could tell that he was slowly wearing the Saiyan down. Goku may have been strong enough to defeat Frieza, but Cold was an entirely different beast. His power knew no limits, and his strength no bounds; he would defeat the Saiyan before long. He just had to land a decisive blow to swing the tides... something decisive, something soon.

"Tell me Saiyan, have you ever experienced a power of my caliber? You seem to be faring quite well, all things considered."

Goku's entire body tensed before he had the chance to reply; he didn't trust the King's suddenly more jovial attitude. A minute ago, they'd been trying to pound each other into the dirt.

"No, I think you're the strongest person I've fought so far," he admitted.

"Your son - Frieza - was pretty strong... but I'd have never imagined having to fight against someone even stronger so soon."

Cold grinned, baring his canines menacingly, before responding. He appreciated the compliment, though he knew that only one of them was particularly likely to remember it.

"Yes, I was thinking about the same thing. When I found my son, drifting in the middle of space, I didn't exactly expect that his would-be killer might be in one piece. I was quite surprised to learn that the 'great hero' who triumphed over Frieza would live on a rock like this one," he explained.

"Imagine my surprise when we arrive to find another warrior of your strength, already waiting for us. He mentioned you by name, you know. Son Goku, was it?"

When Goku didn't respond, the King went on.

"I would assume you know that other warrior well enough to have the same answer as he did, but it is worth asking... would you consider joining me, as my second in command over the universe? This would, naturally, bring you many boons and benefits. First rate medical care, adequate training facilities, an entire legion of worlds at your beck and call.."

Goku frowned, and straightened in place. The combat stance he'd been holding before had grown, for the moment, irrelevant. Still, he kept his fists at his sides, ready to fly in case Cold tried to attack him before he could finish speaking. Frieza, as he recalled, had tried something similar during their fight on Namek.

"I actually have no idea who the other guy was," he said. "I sensed him not too long after you and your son passed me in space, even though he tried to conceal his power level. A lot of your kind don't think to look into things like that. On Namek, a lot of your fighters had scouters attached to them, that let them see a person's strength."

The torrent of raging gold burned on in defiance of the King's gaze, devouring the oxygen around Son Goku like some kind of wrathful fire.

"But you were right about the second thing. I would never join someone like you, Cold. I have no desire to rule _over_ anything. If you think that making me an offer like that will save your life, then I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. After today, there'll be no empire for you to go back to."

The Saiyan paused, casting a furtive glance toward the mesas looming in the distance, and wondered briefly where the stranger had gone. He should have been back in the fight already.

Maybe the others were holding him up?

* * *

Krillin was the first one to let go of the strange man, separating from the younger man and letting Yamcha prop him up against a particularly large rock. His breathing was shallow and the blood coming from the wound in his chest was seeping through his shirt. The bald monk reached into his belt and withdrew a small, brown bag about the size of his palm.

"Hang on buddy, I've got you covered," he said, rifling through the little bag.

The others watched on in silence as Krillin handed the stranger a green colored bean. The man forced it down his throat without a word, instead letting himself hang in the silence. The wounds slowly faded away and the minor scratches on his face healed in an instant. The haggard breathing from a moment ago found itself replaced by wholesome, full-bodied breaths, which finally allowed him to break the silence.

"T-thanks, Krillin... but how did you know that you were supposed to help me?"

Krillin fidgeted a second, completely aware that he was missing an awful lot of the details that he was pretty sure he should've already known.

"Well, if Goku saves you, you've _got_ to be a good guy," the little monk explained, pocketing the bag and keeping his gaze trained on the orange-clad warrior before him. "Speaking of good guys, do we know you? Gohan says you're a Super Saiyan, but as far as we know, there are only three of them left... you not included."

Gohan, the elder, frowned. He wasn't exactly sure how to respond; he hadn't practiced anything for getting saved by his friends before he could explain his past. In fact, he'd actually prepared a bunch of individual statements for them, so that they could all come to understand his words on their own terms. He wasn't even sure they'd just _believe_ him if he told them outright.

Standing and stepping away from the rock, Gohan looked over the faces of his friends

There were too many feelings; fear, regret, joy... all swimming within him and competing in an attempt to draw out a reaction, but he pushed them down. He couldn't let himself react yet.

"For now, you can call me... Shourai, to keep things simple. I'll be able to tell you more soon, but for now, I've got to get back into the fight. If I don't get out there, things are going to get a lot uglier. I don't know if Cold has a fourth form or not, but I don't want to find out."

Gohan, now identified as Shourai, adjusted his belt and turned to face the battlefield. He could sense his father's energy clashing with Cold's, each one struggling for dominance. Cold's raw strength was higher, but his Father had never been one to let superior strength make much of a difference. Besides that, it seemed a lot like the Kamehameha that Cold had practically eaten undefended had weakened a bit of his strength. Together, they could probably win.

He had been about to take off when a gruff sounding voice called out to him.

"Wait just a minute, 'Shourai,' I'm not buying this."

Shourai stopped, recognizing Vegeta's harsh voice almost immediately. He should have known that the Prince of All Saiyans wasn't just going to let him fly back into battle without some kind of explanation. He adjusted his stance and cast a secretive glance to his younger self, who seemed to be sizing the older Saiyan up with something that appeared to be both apprehension and admiration.

"Not buying what? Vegeta, we don't have time for this," he said.

The Prince grunted almost immediately, as if he'd somehow caught the younger man in a deadly trap. Arms crossed, the man in pink stepped forward until he was only about a foot away from Shourai, face full of condescending anger.

"That, right there. How do you know my name, boy? How do you know the bald one's name? Shourai isn't a Saiyan name, and yet here you seem to be, looking all for the world like a bonafide _Super Saiyan_," he said.

Shourai could hear the bitterness on his tongue, making the Prince sound somehow even more hostile than usual. He remembered the tone, too; it was the exact same tone Vegeta had used to lecture his father after returning from Namek, in his own timeline. It occurred to him, at that moment, that Vegeta would've unleashed his anger on anyone. It just happened to be him that'd earned the Prince's ire.

"I don't think now is the - are you seriously stopping me right now? I figured that you, of all people, would know that we have to hurry and take this guy down."

Shourai's muscles tensed as he stared one of his former mentors down, his still-stormy eyes locked on the Prince's own. He understood Vegeta's apprehension, but... there were more important things at hand. He could feel his father's strength waning, meaning that Cold was starting to adjust to his weakened strength. If he managed to get an edge, then the already muddy tide of battle was just going to get harder and harder to maintain.

"Vegeta, now is not the time for this!"

Piccolo's decisive voice cut over the clamor of distant battle and drew everyone's attention.

"We can work out who he is and why he's here after Cold's been dealt with," he said, the agitation clear in his tone. "Or would you like to step in as Cold's other dance partner while this guy sits here and gives us his life story?"

Shourai let his gaze drift back and forth between the two men, as if struggling to decide whether or not he was clear to leave. Despite the fact that he probably could have beaten both into the ground one handed, that had not always been the case. Piccolo had taught him everything he'd ever known... and Vegeta, despite his gruff exterior, had helped him train in his father's absence. Both men were mentors to him when he'd had nobody else to turn to.

"Fine, go then, boy. We'll _chat_ about your history once you and Kakarot've dispatched that beast."

* * *

Shourai blasted across the rock face like a golden rocket, twirling over the stone and scattered sand on his way back into battle. He could see his father trading even blows with Cold in the distance, but he didn't manage to understand the depth of the damage until he came skidding to a halt along the tip of an overlooking plateau.

Goku's armor, given to him by the Yardatians, had been cracked and pretty much shattered under the force of Cold's fists. The shoulder pad that'd once adorned his right shoulder had been blown away, leaving only frayed and burnt edges of cloth to linger over his shoulder. The knees of his outfit had been blown out, and his boots were scuffed.

Then again, Shourai himself wasn't looking much better. His gi was decimated and his weighted undershirt was covered in thick, bloody paint. His left knee was visible through the orange cloth of his pants, and dried blood still lingered on his face. Despite the fact that the senzu bean had removed his less fatal wounds, he could still feel the scarred flesh on his chest where Cold had blasted straight through him. Senzu beans couldn't heal everything, after all.

Energy burst into existence at the young Super Saiyan's fingertips, alerting Goku to his presence. Cold whacked the older man across the face and sent him flying through a nearby pillar. The rocks hadn't even had the time to crumble before the King gave chase, tearing over the broken ground like a bat released from a hellish cage.

Cold, it seemed, couldn't sense energy.

That was probably a good thing.

* * *

_A/N: Hey! I said I would use this space to answer some questions and address some concerns. Now is when I'll start doing that, since the battle has reached its climax and I have released a short chapter about the events in the Future._

_Power levels for this chapter are as follows:_

_King Cold (Form 3 - Wounded) - 162,000,000_

_SSJ Son Goku (Arrival) - 152,250,000_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan (Partially Healed) - 150,000,000_

_Q: Why is Gohan still fighting? A senzu can't heal a hole in the chest. Piccolo only survives those because he's a Namekian._

_A: I know. Gohan can't exactly fight for long. The wound has "cauterized," but he's still got a hole there. He's got a time limit on the battlefield._

_Q: Will there be more chapters detailing the events that lead up to Gohan going back in time?_

_A: Yes. I've already written out the next two, actually. You'll get to see more of Bulma, a little bit of Trunks, and some old faces we haven't seen in a while._

_Q: Are the human characters going to be relevant in this story? Or is this just about Goku and Gohan?_

_A: The humans are going to start out about as useless as they were in canon... but some changes to the timeline and some help from a friend are going to make them a lot more powerful than they would be otherwise._

_Q: Why did Frieza call King Cold Daddy? Why is King Cold stronger than Frieza?_

_A: This is one of the more complex questions to answer. King Cold is King for a reason. Do you really think that Frieza wouldn't just kill his father to take the throne if he figured that he could? Cold, in his second form, is already on about the same ground as Frieza. Frieza, who had to transform two more times to contain his full power, is already at peak strength in his mecha-form. Cold has room to grow stronger._

_Q: Bulma and Vegeta weren't married in the Mirai timeline. Why are they married in your story?_

_A: I'd like to think that Vegeta warmed up a little bit after his rival died. If he didn't grow a little bit of a soft spot, why wouldn't he have just killed everyone and left?_

_Q: Why didn't Gohan kill Cold before he could transform? If anyone should have done this, it would have been Future Gohan._

_A: Gohan wasn't really aware that Cold HAD a transformation. He hadn't seen Cold or Frieza in over a decade, and in his timeline, Cold never got the chance to showcase something like that. Goku showed up, saved the day, and pretty much kept things neat and clean._

_Q: Why is Gohan so quick to go back to the fight against Cold? Shouldn't he have told his friends more about him? Or at least given them his real name?_

_A: All good things come with time. Gohan cares a lot about his friends, but he's still not entirely sure whether the things he's doing are going to affect the timeline he comes from. Right now, he doesn't exactly have much time to think about it either. Keep your eyes peeled in the next two chapters for some more on this!_


	6. The Peak

Goku had been in the middle of a retreat when he noticed the spike in the stranger's energy, prompting him to lean onto his back-foot and cast a thankful glance to the rocky pillar on which the youth stood. A crackling rail of lightning ran rampant along the edges of his fingertips, casting a dour shadow over the Earth and telegraphing the man's rise in power. Cold, however, didn't seem to notice as he smacked Goku through a shaky pile of rock and stone.

The Super Saiyan zig-zagged backward over the ground, letting little thickets of electricity dance in his wake as Cold pursued him, his eyes a bloody red and his face covered in scratches. The battle had been harsh to the both of them so far, as short as it had been, but it would be coming to an end soon. Goku could tell that the stranger, whose ki felt both foreign and familiar, was preparing something to bring their battle to an end.

"Have you learned the futility of your efforts yet, Saiyan?!"

Cold cried out to him as he once again zoomed in on approach, prompting Goku to stiffen his guard and redirect his eyes. He couldn't afford to lose focus again, or the battle would be coming to a much quicker, much less pleasant end.

"I didn't come here to talk to you, Cold!"

He dashed forward to meet Cold at the last possible second, throwing himself beneath the King's strikes with a practiced grace and burying a powerful uppercut deep in the frost demon's abdomen. Cold coughed up a thicket of purple blood, which fell onto the burning soil in front of him, and coughed again as Goku began unleashing a hellish combination against his chest and stomach.

The King reached for the Saiyan beneath him and grabbed him firmly by both shoulders. Goku struggled in place for a moment, kicking at his opponent's gut in an attempt to loosen the hold, but Cold didn't let up. With a powerful roar, Cold pulled Goku in close and spun him around, wrapping his arms over the Saiyan in an attempt to hold him in place. To an outsider, it would have looked like Cold was trying to dislodge a particularly obstinate piece of bread from the Saiyan's throat.

To Goku, it seemed like the setup for one of the worst screwdrivers of all time.

Sure enough, Cold blasted off into the sky, wreathed in dangerous purple energy that crackled and snapped at the air. Goku wriggled beneath the King's grip, even as the two of them hit the apex of their jump, and fought for dear life. He had maintained the edge in technique and raw skill for so long that he'd almost forgotten just how powerful Cold truly was.

Cold let go of Goku just a second before impact with the ground and banked hard over the Earth, soaring over the now shattered floor of their battlefield. The ground buckled and gave way beneath Goku's body, breaking apart at the seams as the last remaining vestiges of the Saiyan's armor shattered and the cloth beneath it ripped apart.

Goku broke free of the rubble with a fearsome scream and plunged forward at Cold with hardly a care for the reserves of energy he'd been treating so cautiously at the start of their fight. Lances of seraphin lightning trailed off of his knuckles as they flew in hard at Cold's face, sending the gigantic demon stumbling to the side, and then crashed repeatedly into the demon's already cut and battered face. Cold was strong and fast, but he was all too similar to his son.

Frieza's main flaw had been his inability to know when to end a game. Cold, if he had so chosen, could have ended their little dance at any time by firing a ball of concentrated ki straight into the Earth. He was not bound by the same honor as Goku or the stranger, but it was obvious that he wanted to crush them on his own terms. He was not seeking strength or improvement or even salvation through their fight, but domination.

With that in mind, Goku brought his other hand into the combination and stepped forward hard. Energy packed in through the spaces in his fingertips and blew Cold's world apart as the blow made contact and sent the demon flying through a rock face in the distance.

"Hn."

Goku smirked and shook his knuckles, releasing pent up steam into the air. He honestly hadn't expected that to work. Cold seemed like the type to catch his fist before it made contact; maybe that meant he was slowing down.

Optimistic, Goku turned his attention back toward the stranger, whose shape he could make out in the distance. He hadn't gotten the chance to think about the stranger before, during the battle, but the longer he powered up... whatever it was that he was powering up, the more familiar his signature became. There was subtly inside of it, darkened by the shadows of an inner flame that seemed too proud to simmer down. It had elements of him inside of it too, hosted and reflected in a pool of shaking water.

It felt a lot like Piccolo, at the core. Piccolo's energy felt like falling water, coating everything around it and spreading out like the rain in the wake of a storm. it had once felt much more sinister, like a heavy rain, but those days had passed long ago.

A pair of teal eyes glanced over toward the area where he knew his friends were hiding, locking on to the suppressed signature of his son, Gohan, before flickering back to the battlefield. Cold was charging forward again, apparently enraged by the Saiyan's determination.

Goku ripped the remains of his shirt from his chest and threw it to the wind, letting the playful smirk that'd crossed his face before fade away into a more serious, determined expression. The corners of his lips had been pulled downward by gravity and the fire in his eyes burned, hostile and unwelcoming, against the typically friendly man's face.

"It's time to end this, Cold!"

* * *

Shourai focused all of his energy into the base of his fingertips and gripped his wrist hard, watching the battle unfold with a morbid curiosity. His father was putting up a much better fight than he had. Goku's technique was far superior to his own in both style and grace, allowing him to bat down the frost demon's more bitter strikes a lot faster and with a lot less effort. Simply put, Shourai was a tank, powerful, durable, and strong. Son Goku was a fighter jet, destructive, quick and slippery.

He watched as Cold tore over the Earth and once again reengaged the fight, letting his own body sink to its knees. Literally all of his ki was being slowly fed into the now glowing mass of energy that had consumed his wrist like some kind of malignant tumor.

The energy writhed beneath the power of his will and struggled to free itself early, determined to unleash itself upon the world with an all-consuming explosion. The technique was one that he had borrowed from Yamcha and his father, but modified to a more extreme end. He had once, long ago, used it in a vain attempt at saving a friend's life. Back then, it had been too weak, too unfocused to do any real damage.

What made the first use of the technique different was that there had been no one to distract his enemy. Without a second wolf, there was no way he could fully charge his energy into the blast. His father had learned the same thing in their fight against Vegeta, when Krillin had missed with the Spirit Bomb and Shourai had been forced to rebound it.

The Super Saiyan exhaled, slowly, as the veil of his aura filtered into the blast in his hand, which expanded with a heavy crack. He was sure, now, that Goku could feel the energy. It would've taken an idiot or a novice not to.

Cold, who had never taken the time to learn to sense things like pure energy, likely felt little more than a tingle in the back of his mind. Sensing energy was a hard thing to do for those who didn't know what they were looking for. It was a lot like finding a needle in a haystack, except the needle was made out of hay too. A person had to look for the thing that made the specific piece of hay that they were searching for unique, and learn to identify it based on those characteristics.

For example, Goku's energy was strong and stable, even when it was wavering and running out. You could pick out his emotions by watching how that energy changed; during the battle against Cold, it had changed very little. During the battle against the Ginyu Force and Frieza, it had been changing constantly as Goku had learned and adapted to his opponents.

Shourai's energy was no exception to emotional detection.

He could tell that Goku was slowly starting to recognize the bottom, most basic components of his ki signature. That was, after all, why it was called a signature - because at the most fundamental level, it was unique to the owner.

Gohan, over with the others, probably couldn't tell yet... and the others probably hadn't thought to notice, save for Piccolo or Vegeta, who were probably still thinking about it. Piccolo was one of the most masterful ki users he had ever known; it wouldn't have shocked him if Piccolo had called him by his name outright. Then again, it was more than possible that they had other things on their mind.

Like the rampaging tyrant that had just unleashed massive, violent blast of energy.

The maelstrom of power swallowed Goku whole and devoured the ground beneath it, eventually exploding with unparalleled force. Smoke billowed outward like a grim marker from the site of the explosion - and found itself ripped apart by streaks of wavering blue light.

Shourai sank down to a knee as the strain from controlling his ki so tightly hit him all at once. A single vein was throbbing on his forehead and sweat was pouring down from his hair, no longer mitigated by the feeling of his aura. His muscles, devoid of his energy, felt hollow and heavy. It was almost time to unleash the blast. He just needed a little bit more time to focus it, and it'd be good to fire. The trick, then, would be to hit Cold without also catching his father in the blast wave.

"Hey there!"

As if on cue, Son Goku appeared beside him on the pillar of stone, his eyes latched on to the still traveling wave of bright blue energy that now carried Cold across the desert. Shourai glanced to the crater that his father had been - and still was - standing in a second ago, and frowned.

"Tien's technique, multi-form," Goku said. "It won't hold him for long. If I had to guess, I'd say the surprise is the thing hurting him the most right now."

"Aren't you worried he'll figure out out? If someone hit me half as hard as they were before, I'd be a little confused."

Goku laughed and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. It was like they weren't in a battle at all. Shourai could hardly believe it; half a second ago, his father had been fighting tooth and nail. How was he smiling so easily?

"That's the thing though, you'd figure it out immediately. He wouldn't, because he's never seen it. He's going to think that I'm on my last legs after that blast hit me, which it didn't, and try to go in for a kill shot."

Shourai blinked, having almost missed an important part of his father's words. How did he know he'd seen the multi-form technique before? How had he known that Gohan - Shourai - would recognize it?

"So that's why we've got to hurry. I'm not exactly a slouch, but that guy is now just over twice as strong as the person he's fighting. What's your plan, son?"

Shourai nodded down to the crackling mass of energy on his wrist, which Goku knelt to survey with a mild interest. He could feel the power running through the ball of ki, wild and struggling for freedom. It was like throwing all of the world's candy into one pinata: eventually, it was going to burst.

"A spirit bomb?"

"No, not quite. It's all my energy in there," Shourai said.

"I figure that if I can hit him with a blast of concentrated power, he's bound to go down. I don't know how to keep him still, though. I don't know how to keep the blast contained, either. When this thing hits, it's going to be like a nuclear bomb going off."

It was Goku's turn to nod. Shourai could feel some of his energy calming inside of the blast, as if he, himself, were becoming more calm from his father's presence alone. He hadn't seen the man in years; all he wanted to do was reach out and hug him and start crying and to tell him everything... but they had other business to attend to.

"Right. A kind of ki kamikaze thing, huh? Must be a pretty neat trick, if you've got the time to charge it up," Goku remarked, thumbing the tip of his nose and letting his hands fall to his hips.

"Yeah. If this misses, I'll be useless for the next few hours, but if you can line up a shot for me, it's a sure fire kill. I don't want to risk letting this guy transform again. Do you remember how strong that made Frieza?"

Goku didn't bother to ask the questions that lingered deep inside of him at that moment, and instead nodded. There would be time for a question-and-answer session after the battle ended.

"I don't, actually. I didn't know he had other forms," he said. "I could sense him when he was powering up, but that's all I thought it was. Frieza played a lot of games, I figured he was just using one percent of his power to be mean."

The realization hit him hardly a second later, and that's when the jovial sound fell out of his voice completely.

"Are you telling me this guy's doing that right now?! Why wouldn't he just transform now?"

"It takes a lot of time for him to do it," Shourai explained. "If he could do it instantly, he'd have killed us by now. He's just looking for a moment of freedom so he can use the transformation he's got left and kill all of us. If that happens, neither of us will be able to stop him."

Goku frowned and turned to face the battlefield, where he could feel his multi-form clone getting absolutely mopped. When the two merged again, all of that pain was going to be transferred back onto him. He probably wouldn't lose much of his actual energy, but he wasn't exactly looking forward to it either.

"You'll be sticking around after we beat this guy, right?"

When Shourai grunted in agreement, Goku took his hand off of the younger Saiyan's shoulder and prepared himself to go back into the battle. He'd originally planned to use the time his clone had earned him to ask his son as many questions as he could, or at least - to figure some things out... but the time just wasn't right.

"Good. I've got some questions for you, before we rejoin the others. What I'm going to do is bring you closer to the battlefield. I shifted it with the idea that you could rejoin us and fire your technique from a new place, but it doesn't seem like you're in any condition to move. I'll bring you close using my Instant Transmission and then get him to transform," Goku said.

Shourai struggled to stand or object, but Goku didn't pay it any mind. Instead, he put his hand on his son's head and vanished in place, reappearing about a hundred yards above Cold's energy signature.

* * *

Goku merged with his clone just in time to take an incoming strike to the face and go stumbling backward over unfamiliar terrain. They were on grass, now; the battle had moved a lot farther than he'd thought. Rails of thick, golden light ran down the length of his left hand and blasted the still-advancing tyrant backward over the ground, charring the thin patches of green grass and blasting aside reddish dirt.

"So tell me," the Saiyan said, wiping a fresh line of blood from his bottom lip. Cold had gotten a good few licks in during the Saiyan's exchange with his son. "Are you using your full power? Because your son didn't use his full strength against me the first time we fought. I get the feeling that you've got more strength back there."

Cold straightened and slammed his tail against the ground in a show of force. Goku didn't pay it any mind, but he did notice that the tyrant's grim smile did, in fact, widen. It was obvious that he was biting onto the hook, just like a big, smug fish.

"You knew my son awfully well for someone that sought to murder him," Cold said.

"I wasn't trying to kill him," Goku grinned. "I actually gave him the energy to get away, but he just used it to fire another blast at me."

Cold snickered the kind of snicker that Goku had been expecting him to snicker, before replying.

"That sounds like my son," he agreed. "And your assumption would be correct, Saiyan. I am, in fact, holding back a lion's share of my power. In order to bring out my full strength, I would need a moment's preparation and some concentration. No doubt, my son explained this to you already, when the two of you fought."

Goku had never been explained anything like that except for when Frieza had required a minute to shoot to one hundred percent of his power, but he didn't correct Cold. What Cold was doing was obvious; he was hoping that Goku would invite him to transform to his full strength.

Goku obliged him.

"That's hardly fair. How am I supposed to take any pride in beating you if you're not at full power? It's like punching a child for not trying hard enough. I'll give you your moment, Cold," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "Go ahead, transform."

The frost demon appraised Goku from a new, more determined light. It was obvious that he felt confident in his final gambit. Goku, on the other hand, felt no such confidence. The weight of a world bore down on his shoulders, heavy and unyielding, but also familiar.

"If you insist, Saiyan."

Cold bent his knees and brought his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing beneath the glare of the sun. A violet flame wrapped itself around his legs and spread up like living fire to cover his chest and face; the whites of his eyes faded away and found themselves replaced by blank expanses of white. Goku could hear the Earth straining beneath the man's power, which had yet to actually grow. Instead, it focused together, like he was cultivating all of his power before actually transforming.

Goku glanced up at the sky, where Shourai was floating in place. Cold, caught up in his transformation, didn't bother to look. Wordlessly, Goku hoped that his son understood that it was time to act.

Shourai threw the sphere of crackling light downward like a baseball in mid-pitch, and Goku watched as it fell through the air. An instant before impact, he vanished, reappearing at the younger Super Saiyan's side as the world was devoured by furious light.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys! I noticed that I made an error in the last chapter, thanks to the sharp eyes of you, the readers. I went back and amended it with a small change, but it shouldn't require a re-reading unless you're really determined to root it out. I also decided to use Sundays as my update days, even though Wednesdays seemed like the best option at first. A family member of mine died this week and I have a lot of appointments on Tuesdays and Wednesdays over the next month, so I decided to list the day as Sunday until my schedule frees up._

_If I change to Wednesday, I'll be sure to leave an alert the week prior. I'd like to thank the readers for keeping up with A Harbinger's Call so far, and for being so interested in my story. Power levels for this chapter are about the same as the last chapter, excluding Goku's temporary Multi-form, which was at about half of Goku's original strength in his Super Saiyan form._

_Final subject - after chapter 10, I'm going to be adjusting the length of chapters to coincide with the new release schedule. Would you guys like me to keep chapter length about the same as it is here? Or would you like me to go for longer, more in depth chapters? With the former, I'd be releasing about two chapters of this length on Sundays. With the latter, chapters would just about double in length._

_Q: Goku didn't notice Gohan was his son at all then?_

_A: Hopefully addressed that in this chapter. I was actually going to answer this when I posted the last chapter, since I've actually got the next few chapters (up to chapter 10) written out well in advance. I decided to let it go until the chapter was posted. Goku did, in fact, notice the similarities between his son's energy and the stranger's._

_Q: Why is Gohan calling himself Shourai? Wouldn't he just tell them his name?_

_A: There're a lot of things that Gohan has the time to do. Charge his energy, track the battle, fire off a gigantic ki blast... a lot of things. He does not have the time to explain to his friends who he is in the middle of a giant, climactic battle. Shourai, itself, means "near future."_

_Q: Is Gohan going to tell his father everything?_

_A: Find out in the next few chapters!_

_Q: Why is Goku so non-chalant? You'd think he'd be a little more concerned, given the fact that everyone's lives are on the line and a new version of his son is there fighting with him._

_A: He's a natural diffuser of tension. He realizes that Shourai (Gohan) is nervous and isn't trying to exacerbate things or make them harder than he should be. It should also be noted that Goku isn't exactly stupid. He's just uneducated. He's going to solve problems first and figure out answers later._

_Q: Does Gohan's technique have an actual name? What makes it different from a spirit bomb?_

_A: A spirit bomb gathers the energy of all living beings that lend its energy to it. Gohan is just focusing his power into one blast, like he would with a normal ki blast, and putting all of it in there. This makes the blast especially potent because of the fact that it's the contained power of a Super Saiyan. Think about a star going Supernova and exploding for a good representation._


	7. Reverberations

Streamers of black smoke and banners of fire rose into the sky around the blast site's epicenter, circling together around the body of a once great king.

Cold's body no longer sported the ridges that Shourai had become familiar with, but he hadn't shrunk down in size at all. His armor had grown to cover his legs completely, but what remained of his face and arms hadn't yet received the same benefits. His arms were still raised over his chest and face protectively, but it seemed as though the blast had blown through the left arm and removed half of the King's head with it.

It had also completely vaporized the outer layers of the King's skin and fried him from the outside in, leaving his body to stew in place like some kind of macabre husk. For a moment, neither of the Saiyans moved, both of them holding their breath in the event that King Cold would continue his transformation... but he didn't seem capable of moving.

Shourai fell through the air and crashed into the ground with a dangerous sounding thud next to his father. Goku glanced toward the fallen Super Saiyan, whose hair had faded mostly to black, and extended his hand at Cold's body. A thin strand of energy could be felt beneath the monster's skin, but the blast had mostly caught him off guard. With a powerful wave of ki, Goku blasted the demon's body apart and incinerated as much of it as he could manage.

Frieza had survived being cut in half, after all; he couldn't take any risks with his father. The stranger was down for the count, and Goku still wasn't sure he could win against Cold on his own. If Vegeta had managed to become a Super Saiyan, the odds would've been more in their favor... but there was no point in thinking about it.

Once he was sure that Cold was gone for good, Goku knelt down and extended a hand to the man who he'd intervened to save in the first place.

"You okay there, bud?"

Shourai nodded and stumbled to his feet, bracing himself against Goku's shoulders for stability. His legs were dead and his arms weighed a ton each, but he managed to stand on his own. It had been a long time since he'd used so much energy so recklessly, but it had paid off.

"Yeah, I'm good. We beat him," he said.

Goku appraised the man before him with a mixture of interest and severity, uncertain about how to proceed. They had just defeated what was easily the most powerful enemy that he'd ever faced, but now they had to break the silence between them - or at least, Goku had to. He couldn't just risk letting the stranger get away without answering any of his questions.

"So, are you my Gohan? Your energy feels just like his, and you know about things that other people wouldn't," he began.

"The only thing that bugs me is that I _know_ where Gohan is. He's over there with the others, probably waiting to come find us once they're sure that the battle is over. He's good at suppressing his strength, but I'm sure you can feel him over there too."

The blazing aura of golden light that surrounded Goku extinguished itself with a soft whooshing sound, dying out against the dirt and fading away completely. He had no intentions of beating up a stranger who'd just helped him out.

He watched as the man thought over his answer and sighed, out of what was either frustration or relief.

"I'm not _your_ Gohan, no, but I am _Gohan_. I'd prefer if you called me Shourai to keep things simple, and to keep my identity a secret." he said.

When Goku didn't respond, Shourai took that as a sign to continue with his explanation. He should've known that his father's curiosity wouldn't have been sated by such a vague summary.

"This might sound strange..."

"I'm from a timeline, not too far into the future, where murderous cyborgs have taken over the Earth. I've been fighting them on my own for the last few years, but no matter what I do, I just can't defeat them. One on one, maybe... but they gang up on me every time."

Goku crossed his arms over his chest and turned so that he was facing his son head on. The idea that some version of Gohan had come from the future wasn't exactly hard to believe, considering the evidence he'd seen first hand, but he still didn't understand.

Suddenly, his brow furrowed with concern as he realized the implications of what his son had just told him.

"None of the others are helping you?"

Shourai inhaled and held his breath for a moment, clearly struggling with something. Goku waited, patiently, for the younger man to explain himself.

"There's just - no one left to help. I'm the only one left, except for my student, a boy named Trunks," he said. There was no reason for him to explain Trunks's history. He would let his father connect the dots once they came for that part. "Everyone else dies trying to stop them. Vegeta, Piccolo, Tien... even Krillin. They all die to the cyborgs."

Goku literally choked on thin air and nearly died then and there.

"Dead? Everyone? Even me?"

Shourai paused again, and looked down at the ground.

"Not quite. You die just before they arrive, to a heart virus. You don't even get to fight," Shourai explained, barely able to speak. It was obvious that the words hurt him just to say, but he fought to continue on in spite of the frustration and the pain. "That's why I came back in time."

"I figured that if anyone could change things, it would be you, dad."

Goku frowned as his son's energy, which was still low from the attack he'd fired a few minutes ago, changed. The darkness there grew and expanded within his signature, like a thorn wedging its way in through flesh.

"I'm sorry, Gohan - Shourai, I mean. I don't know what to say," he said.

"Are you taking me to the future so I can fight those things with you? The cyborgs?"

Shourai shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. He still felt a little woozy, but the more time he spent standing, the easier it became for him to stomach the feeling.

"No. That wouldn't help. Right now, we're probably about the same strength. We could maybe take them, two on two, but they don't get tired. They have infinite reserves of energy. They'd just outlast us. I'm here to make sure you never get the heart virus in the first place. When you died, you were a lot stronger than I am now."

Goku didn't say anything, but he could hear the resolution in Shourai's voice asserting itself once again. He'd been shaky during the initial explanation, but it was obvious that he was slowly finding his stomach for the talk that they were having. He had probably prepared for it, in his own time.

"A lot stronger, huh? Strong enough to make that much of a difference?"

"In my timeline, when you arrived, you dispatched Frieza and his father in the blink of an eye. Then, you began softening Vegeta. After few months, you two started training together every day... and when you were done with him, you would train with me and Piccolo."

Goku chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head. That made a lot of sense. In fact, it'd probably made the heart virus thing worse. Training was great to him, but it was never good to train while sick... assuming the virus crept up on him, he'd probably killed himself, in the long run.

"Heh, there's no way Chi-Chi liked that. She didn't even want you going to Namek. There's no way she liked me teaching you how to become a Super Saiyan. I did that, right? It was me?"

"No. When the cyborgs killed Piccolo, I ascended. It was hard to control at first, and to an extent, it still is. I've been doing it for years now. Vegeta helped a lot, but I think he was more interested in training me because I was a Saiyan, not because he thought I was the last hope we had. He felt he could have beaten the androids by himself, if he could get them one on one."

Shourai's tone was stern and serious, a stark contrast to Goku's own. The older Saiyan's demeanor had changed once his son had opened up and keyed him in - probably to comfort him, if only a little. He couldn't imagine that Shourai's future was a particularly happy place to live.

"That's Vegeta, alright. Was he as strong as you are now? I'm guessing he became a Super Saiyan too," Goku said, genuinely curious.

"Yeah. He became a Super Saiyan just before you died. The heart virus was a big shock to him. He's the one who brought you home when you collapsed while training - said that he wasn't going to find any pride in beating a man who was too stupid to breathe. He took it hard when you died. He wasn't even on the planet when everything started. He came back a few months in. We thought, for a while, that he was going to be able to save us."

Shourai glanced up at the sky and noted that he could now see his friends slowly converging on their location. They had sensed Cold's death and decided that it was finally safe to come out. Honestly, he couldn't blame them for waiting so long, but he wished that they'd have waited longer. There was so much he needed to say, so many things he still needed to ask. He hadn't been allowed to talk to his father in years.

"I've got a vial in my pocket," he said, withdrawing it and handing it to his father. "It's the vaccine for the virus. It should keep the virus from killing you. I don't know how effective it is, since you died before it was completed, but it should work. Bulma made it."

Goku nodded and examined the little capsule with interest, only somewhat shocked that it hadn't been crushed or vaporized during the fight. Capsule Corp stuff was, apparently, pretty sturdy.

"Are you leaving? If this virus doesn't kill me for a while, why would you give it to me now? Why wouldn't you just give it to me right before it kicks in?"

The younger Saiyan frowned and put a hand on his hip.

"I wouldn't have felt right if I didn't warn you that the cyborgs were coming. They don't arrive until May 12th, in the year 767. You have about three years to train for their arrival. Please, don't waste them."

He looked back up at Goku, as if taking him in for the first time since he'd arrived, and let the silence hang there between them. He wanted to reach out and hug his father, squeeze him tight and then pray that when he went home, his dad would be waiting for him... but he knew that _his_ father was dead. Just like the others, Son Goku was never going to live in his timeline again.

"You make it sound like you're leaving," Goku said. "I don't think you should go anywhere, as beat up and tired as you are."

Shourai almost gasped - but held himself back.

"I'm sorry. I have to go. I don't know what might change if I stay. Time is a very fickle thing. For all I know, I've just erased my entire life by being here."

Goku blinked.

"Well, hang on. I'm not a scientist or anything... but you don't remember yourself coming back, right?"

Shourai nodded in response.

"So then that means that whatever you do here doesn't change what's going to happen in your time. You're not really changing anything by being here. Right? Is that how it works?"

Their friends were going to be touching down any minute now. The group of specks in the distance were now vaguely human shaped and growing closer and more defined by the second.

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean - I guess. I don't remember anything. Maybe the multiverse theory is the right one?"

Shourai was practically muttering at this point, but Goku didn't question the younger Saiyan's sudden dip in volume. He was pretty sure that he'd hit the right buttons to get what he wanted.

"If nothing changes from you being here, wouldn't it make more sense if you stayed? You don't have to tell the others who you are, but I'm sure most of 'em will figure it out eventually. Gohan - er, you? Gohan's a smart kid. He's not gonna be in the dark forever."

The future fighter frowned for a second and scratched at his cheek, completely flummoxed. Was his dad seriously asking him to stay? Was that even a real option? He wasn't sure what would change. For all he knew, staying would unbirth Trunks... but he doubted that he'd spend most of his time training with Vegeta. If anything, he would spend his time helping the others, maybe training with Piccolo for a little while...

"I guess that does make sense. It would be easier to prepare for the cyborgs if you had someone that was a little stronger to train with. Even if I can't beat them on my own, maybe if I train with you... then I could go back strong enough to take them down."

His fists clenched at his sides and the tiniest hint of a flame burned on behind his eyes as he realized what he was saying. Somehow, his father had already sold him.

"Good! We can tell the others the basics, the need to know stuff, and start training this week. Vegeta probably won't believe you, but I don't think he really has to. If I know him, he'd want to get stronger just to spite me," Goku said, practically chuckling. "I'll tell Chi-Chi to get a bed ready for you, and you can stay with us!"

Tears pooled at the corners of Shourai's eyes, but he didn't say anything. How could he? What words could he possibly muster up to respond to such a genuine and friendly offer from his father? The man he'd lost so long ago had just brought himself back into his life and offered Gohan the chance of a lifetime.

"Only one condition though," he said, causing Shourai's heart to practically stop.

"You owe me a spar. Deal?"

Before Shourai had the chance to answer his father, Vegeta touched down on the burned earth beside them. His distrusting eyes flickered back and forth from Goku, who had dropped out of his Super Saiyan state, and Shourai, who looked like he'd just got done taking a lap around the solar system. Then, slowly, they drifted toward the ashen remains of King Cold, and back to the two Saiyans.

"Kakarot," he said. "Good to see that you've finally done something useful."

Goku grinned while Vegeta turned to Shourai and appraised him with hungry eyes. He wanted answers that he wasn't going to receive. Most of the others touched down not long after him, their boots hitting the dirt and kicking up small puff-clouds of dust.

"Dad!"

Gohan was the first one to break through the crowd, literally running forward and practically tackling Goku around the waist. Shourai watched his father hug his past self in silence, before turning his attention to the others. They were all surveying him with a strange curiosity, like he was an exhibit at a museum in a foreign country. He couldn't blame them.

"Hey, Gohan! You've grown since I saw you last," Goku said.

"You've been gone so long - when Shenron said you wanted to come back on your own I was so confused. What took you so long?"

Krillin stepped forward next, as Goku let go of Gohan and let him step away.

"Yeah, what did take you so long Goku? Did you REALLY need some peace and quiet or something?"

Krillin laughed, but Shourai could tell that the bald monk was a lot more nervous than he let on. He remembered Krillin being that way in his timeline too. He didn't say anything, but this was his first time seeing Goku since his own death on Namek.

Goku grinned and scratched at the back of his head, laughing playfully.

"Well, I mean, I wasn't really _that_ far away. I could've been here in seconds, but I thought this guy had everything under control."

"Seconds? What're you talking about, Goku?"

Goku put his fingertips against his forehead and vanished - only to reappear a few seconds later with a pair of red rimmed sunglasses. He adjusted them on his nose and nodded his head.

"Seconds! It's called Instant Transmission," he said. "I learned it on a planet I passed by on my way back home. My ship ran out of fuel and they helped me get going again."

He handed Krillin his sunglasses, which actually belonged to Master Roshi, and couldn't help but smile when Krillin put them on.

"Only you could do something like that, Goku. You're ridiculous, you know that? That guy took a beam through the chest, and you just teleported back here like it was no big deal."

"Not really a big deal when you think about it," Shourai cut in. "You guys healed me up pretty fast."

Everyone paused when Shourai spoke, as though his words had given them permission to actually regard him for the first time since their limited meeting earlier.

"Speaking of healing you up, do we... uh, know you, buddy?"

Krillin was, again, the one to speak. It seemed that he'd been the one that the group wanted to break the tension, which was something Shourai could understand. Piccolo was too good at _creating_ tension to diffuse it, Vegeta was a wildcard, Tien was too bad at being casual, and Gohan was a literal child. Bulma had probably argued her own case, at some point, but it seemed that she, Yamcha, and Puar had hung back at the rock face.

"You could say that," he said.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the late upload. I put the chapters up on when I get home on the days I'm supposed to update. This means that, if I have a long day the day before or if I don't get the chance to stop in, then I can't upload until later in the day. I write the chapters in advance, so perhaps I should upload early instead of late, but I wasn't thinking much about it this morning._

_Like I said a few days ago, chapters one through ten are already written out. I have abstract outlines for the chapters beyond that, which I'll be starting to write this week. The only things I write out the day of the upload are the author's notes, which you're reading now._

_Thank you all for your support so far!_

_Our next chapter will deal with Shourai (Adult Gohan) adapting to life in the past, as well as summarize the things he told the other Z-Fighters and their various reactions. It won't be very actiony, but I still think that it's a good and worthwhile read. It's about double the length of this chapter, so I was considering splitting it up into two parts when I post it... but we'll see. What do you guys think?_


	8. Cooldown

The sound of birds chirping outside roused Shourai from his slumber and brought him into the waking world. He let out a deep, cumbersome breath and rolled over onto his left shoulder in the dark. The blue-gray sky leaked in through the glass of his window and cast a dim light over his carpet, but did little to wake him from his morning stupor. He cast a hesitant glance toward his bedside table, which sported an analog clock that he couldn't read in the dark, and threw his feet onto the floor.

His entire body felt cold and heavy, which was probably the worst part of any morning. He supposed that it had something to do with sleep, but biology had never been his strong suit. He knew a lot about a lot of things and could easily explain the nuances of perpetual motion, but figuring out why his toes always felt frozen in the morning was beyond him.

Shourai shook his head in an attempt to alleviate himself of the heavy morning fatigue, but ended up yawning and leaning back against his mattress and bracing himself with his hands. Starbursts of red and green exploded in the corners of his eyes and urged him to go back to sleep, but the young Saiyan managed to get to his feet with another hefty yawn. He stifled it with his fist and stepped toward the closet.

Most of the clothes in the closet were old, covered in dust or too big or too small... but they were his clothes for the time being. They had belonged to his father and were emblazoned with a number of emblems. Most of them held Master Roshi's emblem, but a few played host to King Kai's logo. Then there was the one that he'd worn, tattered on the far end of the closet: ripped and broken, it had once displayed his own name on the back.

He sorted through the rack of clothing until he grabbed a black undershirt off of the rack; it wasn't weighted, but he didn't need a weighted gi to make himself some breakfast and take a bath.

He grabbed a pair of orange pants from the back of the closet, some socks, and a pair of underwear before heading for the door. The baths were on the other side of the Son household, which had been built atop a small but natural hot spring.

Shourai crept through the house as silently as possible, working his way through the dark with a semi-familiarity to his former home. After his father had died, he'd purposefully spent as little time at home as possible. It worried his mother, but a lot of things had that effect. In fact, once Goku had explained to Chi-Chi that Shourai would be staying with them, she'd immediately reacted with outrage. He hadn't bothered to explain that Shourai was, in fact, her son.

Instead, they were going with the cover story that Shourai was going to be a tutor to the still-developing Gohan. It wasn't the perfect story, but Shourai was smart enough that it was a convincing one. Thankfully, he'd always had a soft spot for sciences and literature.

He opened the door to the (literal) bathroom and let the steam greet him all at once. It washed over him and seeped in through the door to coat the hall with a thin layer of vapor, which dissipated a little after he stepped inside.

The morning chill that'd followed him out of bed melted when he closed the door.

* * *

By the time he got done with his bath and put his clothes into the laundry basket, the sun had already started to peek out from behind the trees outside. Streamers of glittering light filtered in through the windows and danced across the floor as the trees shivered with the breeze. The dark-haired youth pulled his father's old training shirt over his head and was surprised to see that it fit rather nicely. His father was lean and lithe, his body honed after years of training and maintenance. His own body was a little beefier, more muscular and less well defined. His training had been more for durability than for performance, which was an understandable difference, given the circumstances.

Once he was fully dressed, he went ahead and grabbed the laundry basket by the rim and went outside to hang the clothes on the line. When he was younger, he'd found the chore boring and wasteful, since his time could typically be better spent... doing, well, anything else. Plus, since his mother didn't like him flying, he'd been forced to use a step ladder. Since then, he'd learned the simple pleasure to be taken in accomplishing even the most trivial of tasks.

There was something reassuring about being able to do _something_, even if it was just hanging clothes. He'd spent hours of his youth just worrying in still silence, unable to move or train or do anything for fear of being discovered by the androids.

The sound of a door closing near the front of the house roused him from his thoughts and practically forced him to turn around.

"Huh? Oh, hey there!" Goku said, stretching out as he approached the laundry line. Unlike his son, he was wearing a simple black wifebeater and a pair of khaki shorts. "You're up pretty early."

Shourai nodded and attached the last shirt to the line before responding.

"Could say the same about you," he began, letting the word 'dad' hang in the silence. "You training today or something? You're not really dressed for it."

Goku grinned and scratched at the back of his head, absentmindedly examining his son's work on the laundry line.

"There's a difference between training and stretching. I've got my training clothes inside. Baba gave me this special chest to hold my weighted clothes, since they'd probably break the floorboards if I kept 'em out. Chi-Chi'd go nuts, y'know?"

The both of them shared a laugh for a second, before Goku broke the silence, which Shourai'd been just about to avoid commenting on.

"You still owe me that spar, by the way," he chided, playfully wagging a finger at his son. Shourai grinned and scratched at his cheek in response, aware that his father was right. They'd had a few days of rest after the battle with Cold, and now things were about to slowly return to normal.

"I'll take you up on that now, if you want. I'm not sure how much stronger I've gotten since that fight though," Shourai said. "I've been sleeping off most of my recovery."

"That's alright. I think you might be just a tiny bit stronger than me anyway. It's not like we're going to be going Super Saiyan just for a spar," Goku said. Judging by the tiny hint of regret in his voice, Shourai could tell that his father almost wanted to do just that. "Unless you wanted to, I mean. I've only ever seen another Super Saiyan once, and that was a few days ago. I didn't even realize I was blond as a Super Saiyan 'till I saw you as one."

Shourai chuckled but shook his head.

"Nah, I think just normal would be fine. I don't wanna get injured all over again. Where did you have in mind, though? I don't wanna wake mom or, uh, myself up."

Goku pointed toward the mountains in the distance and put a hand on his hip, as if he expected Gohan to know, instinctively, where he meant.

"Back there's where my grandpa and I used to train. I guess I never really got to show you when you were younger, on account of the whole heart virus thing, right? I was gonna wait until Gohan was ten to show him... but I guess since you're already older, it's okay if I show you now, right?"

Shourai nodded, and the two had been about to take off when he paused and turned to his father, who was still wearing his wifebeater and khaki shorts.

"You might wanna get dressed first, though. Something tells me Mom wouldn't be too happy if we ruined those shorts. I might not have gotten to see any training ground or anything, but I remember her buying you a bunch of regular clothes when I was younger," he said.

Goku glanced down at the shorts and grinned, tugging at the left pocket for a second.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I'll go ahead and get changed after all, then! One second!"

* * *

Even with the change of clothes, it didn't take either of them long to get to Grandpa Gohan's training grounds. Hidden a few miles away from the Eastern District, it was nestled between the base of Mount Paozu and a small lake. The area had been cleared completely of trees and seemed to be pretty well taken care of despite the fact that nobody had visited it in what must've been a long time. The two Saiyans touched down against the grass and surveyed their surroundings.

"I actually came out here the day after the fight," Goku said.

"Made sure to take care of the grass and keep it from getting too unruly. Since I can't really train near the house, I train out here sometimes. Bulma said she's going to give me one of those gravity machines to put here, if I need it, but I dunno how that'll work. I think she already made one for Vegeta."

"Yeah, she did," Shourai said, putting his hands on his hips. He must've overlooked the place half a dozen times, flying from Capsule Corporation back to the Eastern District. "Gravity machines are pretty convenient. They make you a lot stronger a lot faster, but they're killer on the body. If you use one too much it'll break your bones, too."

Goku whistled, either in appreciation or understanding, and stepped toward the lake, He made sure to pat his knees, which were now covered by a pair of long, beige pants, and stretch carefully before turning back to Shourai. The younger man noted the glint of playful curiosity in his father's eyes even before he spoke.

"You ready?" Goku asked.

Shourai stretched his legs and slowly dropped into his combat stance, lifting one arm up in front of his face and letting his other arm linger down by his hips, which had dropped down to give him a new center of gravity. His boots were planted firmly against the grass and spread apart carefully. The stance was his father's in spirit, but purely Piccolo's in posture. He didn't really notice the difference until Goku dropped into his own stance, which was a lot tighter in nature.

"Yeah. Let's do this, dad!"

A subtle breeze wafted across the morning battlefield as both warriors inhaled, sizing each other up for the brief tussle that was to come. Shourai hadn't had a decent sparring partner in over ten years; sure, there was Trunks... but Trunks was still very rough around the edges. Sparring with Trunks was like playing chess with a pigeon. It often felt like they were on two different levels, playing two different games for two different reasons.

Goku took off first, blasting over the grass toward Shourai with his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. Shourai sprang backward onto his rear foot and raised his guard up just in time to parry an incoming jab. A flurry of flicker-like strikes followed, most of which Gohan either wove away from or outright blocked. Each blow was lightning fast and precise, but manageable in its own right. It was obvious that his father was just warming up.

The older Saiyan unleashed a dynamite punch with his right hand, which collided with Shourai's left arm and exploded into a veil of smoke and fire. Veins of flame billowed outward from the cloud of emerging smoke as Shourai was blasted out of it, trailed by tendrils of conflagrating red.

Goku sprang out of the cloud and Shourai slid back over the grass, letting his boots crush the sharp blades and skid even further backward. Goku punched at his son's chest and face, only to have his strikes parried and knocked aside. Without waiting for his father to resume his offensive, Shourai buried his fist deep in the older man's face and relished the feeling of recoil as it jolted down the length of his arm.

As Goku fell back, reeling, Shourai reached out and grabbed the older man by his wrist. Goku tugged back for a second, but found himself pulled back in quickly by Shourai's brute strength. The younger Saiyan quickly brought his fist across his father's face and grimaced as the older man grunted with pain. Before he had time to feel any remorse, however, Goku reversed the grip on his wrist and tossed Shourai head over heels toward the lakefront.

Shourai tumbled and stabilized just over the water's edge. The tips of his boots swept across the surface of the lake and sent ripples dancing across it as he regained himself. His dad had vanished completely, energy signature and all.

"Over here!"

Shourai turned just in time to be batted down into the lake by an overhead axe handle. The pain resonated through his entire body as he sank deeper and deeper into the water. Energy wrapped itself around his hands from the base of his wrists to the ends of his fingertips, glowing blue and glittering beneath the surface of the water. He plunged both hands forward and a wave of energy surged forth and broke through the lake.

Goku batted it to the side and ascended upward as Shourai shot out of the water after him; he could tell that the younger Saiyan was just a little bit stronger and faster, but hopefully, that advantage would prove negligible.

Shourai led with his left leg and slid by his father, who dodged a would-be kick to the chin with a quick hop backward through the air.

When the blow failed to make contact, Goku lashed out with an open palm and sent Shourai sprawling through the air. Though the younger man was faster and slightly stronger, his technique was a lot rougher and less refined. It was obvious that his time spent without a sparring partner had been detrimental; there was only so much a single person could do to refine their technique alone. A fighting style was a lot like an experiment. It required testing and was perfected through experience.

When Shourai corrected his course in the air, Goku had already begun darting toward him. A blur of stroke-like punches burrowed deep into his guard and forced him backward through the air, but failed to make any meaningful impact. Though the older man was definitely the more technical of the two, Shourai's superior speed and strength allowed him to play a better defense.

Still, he couldn't win by staying on the defensive.

"Hah!"

Shourai blocked a left handed strike and countered with a heavy kick to the gut, which forced his father to lurch over in pain. Without thinking, he brought his left hand down hard on his father's back and sent him plummeting toward the lake. Goku stopped himself just short of the surface and raced across the water, and fired off a series of sparkling bolts of lightning at his son.

Shourai deflected the first two, but the third and fourth slammed into his chest and stomach, producing tiny clouds of puffy smoke that drifted off as he fell back through the air. His clothes were sopping wet, with water dripping off of him and matting his hair down, but he blew it away by spreading his arms out to the side and summoning his aura.

A flickering flame of sapphire light consumed him and drew the water out of his clothes, evaporating it and drying him off.

Goku grinned from his position near the water and vanished in place, only to reappear a few feet in front of his son, somehow mid-dash. The heel of his boot buried itself deep in Shourai's face and followed him all the way to the ground. When Shourai's shoulders hit the grass and continued to skid, Goku hopped off and took a defensive stance a few feet away.

When Shourai clambered to his feet, he realized that he was already out of breath. The energy he'd blown the other day was still coming back to him in slow spurts, leaving him bereft of his full power. He could already feel the fatigue setting in, but he did, admittedly, feel a lot more awake than he had earlier in the morning. The tiredness of the night had been blasted away by the rush of adrenaline and the speed at which they carried themselves.

The two warriors slowly drifted down to the grass and straightened, with Goku having realized his son's growing fatigue and Shourai aware that he wouldn't be able to go on for much longer.

"Done already, bud?"

Shourai took a moment to gather his breath, and ended up nodding in silence. He should have known that blowing so much energy all at once would take a toll on him. He was almost starting to wish that his father had taken the bag of senzu beans with him when they'd parted ways with the rest of their friends.

"That's alright! This got me warmed up anyway," Goku said, jovially. He strode toward Shourai and extended his hand for the younger man to shake, which he did, if not breathlessly.

"I'm... still recovering. I see why... Vegeta never... tried this."

Goku's brow furrowed for a second before he caught on and nodded.

"Oh, against those cyborg guys? Yeah, I feel like that kinda thing wouldn't work on a moving target anyway. Vegeta's a really smart guy. He wouldn't try anything like that on his own, unless he had someone covering for him."

When Shourai said nothing, Goku went on.

"Is there something on your mind, son? You look kinda pale," he said. There were other signs too, but he didn't bother to bring them up. Everytime he mentioned the future around Shourai, even in passing, the younger Saiyan's face turned a ghastly white. His body language would always change completely, turning the great warrior into a puppy waiting for the shoe to drop down on him. "If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine."

Shourai straightened reluctantly, still regulating his breathing. His face was a little scuffed from where a few wayward blows had made their mark, similar to his father's own, and the edges of his sleeves were a little frayed from where his father's blasts had made contact with his body, but he was physically fine, otherwise. It was just the fatigue getting to him - he wondered, briefly, if he could convince his father of that.

"It's a hard thing to talk about," he said.

The truth was that he respected his father a lot. His father was the hero that he'd never gotten the chance to be and the savior that he'd always longed for. Even when he was weaker than his opponent, he carried himself with the same air as if he were a champion walking into a prize fight. Son Goku was the definition of _strong_.

How could he, then, expose his own weakness to such a strength? He knew that his dad wouldn't judge him for his failures, but the darkness inside of him wasn't something that he was ready to bare yet. He would open up with time.

"I didn't say everything to the others, back in the desert."

Goku pursed his lips, but let his son go on nonetheless. He knew that Shourai hadn't mentioned everything, but that was to be expected. He couldn't expect everything out of someone from the future. Time was probably a dangerous thing to mess with. Even if it wasn't changing yet, that didn't mean that things wouldn't change in the future.

"I told them about the cyborgs, but I didn't tell them about... the people left over. It's just me out there, Dad. Me and Trunks," he began. "And a lot of the time, that just doesn't feel like enough. I've tried everything I could. The Ultra Divine Water, fighting them, running from them... It feels like I'm on the verge of something else that I just can't break through to, something that'd let me defeat them."

His fingertips clenched into fists and he held them out in front of his chest, glaring down at them in both anger and frustration.

"I feel like, for as hard as I've tried, I should be so much stronger. When you fought Frieza, you found the strength deep inside to beat him, even when everything was lost. You didn't need anyone's help to do it. What makes me different?"

Shourai looked like he was about to go on, but Goku's stern voice cut in and stole his attention away.

"There's a key difference you're overlooking, Gohan," he said. His tone was both stoic and reassuring, like he was about to give his son an important lecture... but one that carried an important lesson. It was the voice he used when he'd calmed Gohan down after the fight with the Ginyu Force.

"My strength then was something that'd always been inside of me, boiling beneath the surface and waiting to swell up and explode. I was able to call upon it then because I was the one who needed it the most. You said that Trunks is your student, right?"

Shourai nodded, silent.

"Can Trunks go Super Saiyan too?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself, one Super Saiyan isn't enough to defeat them. If Trunks is Vegeta's son, then he should be able to go Super Saiyan too at some point."

Goku was referencing the conversation they'd had in private a few nights prior, when Shourai had explained things in a more thorough detail. He hadn't risked telling Vegeta about the impending birth of his son on the off chance that it completely changed the timeline and unbirthed was a good kid. He didn't need to be unborn - or never born? Whatever the term was, Trunks didn't deserve it.

"I'm the youngest Super Saiyan in history," Shourai said. "I turned when I was ten years old. I lost a lot to get that transformation. I don't think Trunks has lost anything that would let him transform."

The light behind Goku's eyes changed, like he was about to hit a stride that he'd never been allowed to hit before. He held a single finger up in front of his face, and immediately, a veil of golden light wrapped around it.

"Becoming a Super Saiyan isn't necessarily about a loss. It's about a _need_. When I transformed against Frieza, it was because I needed to avenge my friend and I needed to save you and Piccolo and Bulma and right the wrongs that he'd done. When I transform in a fight, it's because I feel the need to or because a situation requires me to... or sometimes, just because I want to."

Shourai didn't yet understand - so Goku continued.

"Think about it. Could you go Super Saiyan right now if you wanted? I'm betting you could, and not because you've lost something. Just because you've had that power bubbling beneath the surface for so long that you can call on it when you need it."

The younger Saiyan scratched at the back of his head for a second and examined his father with a mixture of scrutiny and confusion. It was possible that he was correct, but he was working on a lot of assumptions. There had only ever been three Super Saiyans in history - and in Goku's timeline, there'd been only two so far. Super Saiyans weren't something you could find at a bargain sale.

"I dunno, Dad. Maybe you're right, but Trunks is too young to fight with me anyway. I don't want to risk his life to defeat them," he said. "I've lost too many people already."

Goku nodded, solemnly, and the energy along his finger extinguished itself.

"I'm not saying you have to make him transform, I'm just saying that maybe you're putting too much of the burden on yourself. You're my son, Gohan. I know you can beat 'em, eventually. Don't be afraid to ask for help to do it."

He let the silence hang a second - and then grinned.

"Besides, by the time you go back, you'll be strong enough to take 'em both on by yourself! Once you recover from fighting Cold, you'll probably be even stronger already. I know that the beating I got toughened me up a little, too. I wasn't even hurt _that_ bad. Just _pretty _bad."

Shourai smiled at the idea of being able to defeat both of the androids by himself, though the idea still felt a little far fetched. Honestly, he still had a lot of things left to say that their conversation just hadn't hit, but he could tell that the conversation was over for now.

"We should probably start heading back to the house," he said. "Mom's probably going to be getting up soon."

Already, the morning sun had spread into the sky and now loomed over the valley. The two of them glanced up at the sky for a moment, both trying to estimate the time of day.

"Yeah, it's probably about eight by now. She said she had some errands to run at ten in West City, so she'll probably want me to take her over to Bulma's or something. Do you know what you've got to go over with... Lil' Gohan today?"

Goku's grin was contagious and Shourai couldn't help but smile with him. The idea of calling his younger self 'Lil Gohan' was almost too much. He was somewhat glad that he'd decided to give himself a nickname to keep things simple, even if his father hadn't yet taken to calling him by it.

"Like I said, Dad. Call me Shourai. I think Mom might catch on if she hears you call me that in front of her. She's not stupid, y'know," he said.

"Ah, alright. Fair point! Still, let's head back. I don't want your mom to think that I went off to go hang out with Krillin again. She's been really nice ever since I got back, but I don't wanna worry her."

* * *

_A/N: So this was actually about the length of the last chapter and another half of a chapter. I was looking over the word counts when I got home (about an hour before posting this) and realized that. I'm sorry, I almost feel like I lied to you guys!_

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which was a little bit more light hearted than the last few, and a little bit more feelsy too. The chapter coming up next will deal with a few things at once, notably interactions between Gohan and Shourai, Shourai and Chi-Chi, and Shourai and some of the other Z-fighters. _

_An early question about this fic was whether or not this fanfiction would allow the humans some time in the spotlight. I'd like to think that, as the story progresses, the humans are going to become more and more relevant as their potential is realized. Keep your eyes out next chapter for (unmissably large) appearances by Yamcha and Krillin!_


	9. The World King's Fist

Chi-Chi had spent the better part of the last hour cutting large swathes through the crowds at the North Star mall. Between her and her four escorts, she'd managed to accrue about half a million zeni's worth of clothes, groceries, and general supplies for the coming winter, which she intended to tough out with the rest of her family in the mountains.

"She's like a demon," Yamcha muttered, tightly gripping at least a dozen bags in each hand. Krillin, beside him, held a sack that was almost as big as he was over his back. Shourai and Gohan stood a little ahead, both looking exasperated while their mother fought her way through a massive crowd of shoppers in an attempt to grab a good deal on an industrial sized rice cooker. Honestly, any of the three super warriors could've just zipped in and grabbed it… but she'd declined their offer, claiming that it was the only form of stress relief that she got.

Shourai could understand that, but he couldn't say he shared the sentiment. Stress wasn't something he was good at dealing with, even if he managed to put on a good appearance. Dressed in a baggy black shirt and a pair of slacks, he fit in well with the casually dressed Yamcha and Krillin.

"You'd think she'd get tired eventually," Krillin said. "Piccolo says that Gohan's going to be strong because of Goku, but… kid, i've gotta be honest, I think you get it from your mom more than your dad."

Gohan, clad in a pair of junior slacks and a white sweater, laughed and placed a stack of boxes on the ground in front of him. He'd been carrying them for at least an hour; apparently, being a grocery mule was supposed to be "good for his character."

"I don't know," Gohan said. "I wouldn't be as strong as I am without you guys."

"He's right," Shourai said, grimacing as Chi-Chi plucked the rice cooker off of its perch and booted some poor woman out of the way. "You guys are a lot stronger than you think. At least, you can be."

Yamcha blinked, and both he and Krillin turned to face the enigmatic man from the future.

"What do you mean?"

"You guys never learned the Kaio-ken, right?"

"Never really got the chance," Krillin lamented. "King Kai always told us that he didn't have the time to teach us."

"Dad says that he spends a lot of time working on his car," Gohan interjected. "Maybe it's that?"

"Yeah, that'd be a good excuse," Yamcha said. "If his planet weren't like a hundred feet in diameter."

"Not much of a planet, if you ask me," Krillin replied.

Shourai leaned up against the cart he'd been pushing and scratched his nose. On top of being blessed by the fact that his mother didn't seem to have recognized him yet and wasn't about to make a stranger carry anywhere near as much as Yamcha or Krillin, he'd also been given the extremely useful gift of foresight.

"Well, I'm sure that… uh, Goku, would teach you. Why haven't you asked him?"

It took a moment of milling around for either of the two men to respond to him. Young Gohan merely looked up between them, missing the glint of hunger in their eyes at the mere mention of asking their long time friend for assistance. To Shourai, it was the obvious solution. Give Yamcha and Krillin Kaio-ken, give them some time to master it, and surely they'd be able to put up a much bigger fight against the Androids. Multipliers in strength were serious business; even with a low base power level, someone could multiply it by three or four times and suddenly shoot right over their old rivals or superiors.

"With a well kept Kaio-ken, Yamcha, you could've probably beat Nappa."

Yamcha scratched at the back of his head, losing his hand in the tangled mess of black that ran down his back. He'd been growing it back out during his summer training.

"I'm not even surprised that you know about that. What with you being…"

He paused again and shared a look with Krillin.

Even though it made sense that they'd have figured out who he was, Shourai's heart still threatened to pound out of his chest at the mere idea that they'd reveal it in front of Gohan… who still hadn't put two and two together. Being young, Gohan wasn't the type of person yet to stew on new information. Once he got a minute to think about it, he'd surely get it.

"You know, a future man," he finished, lamely. Shourai understood what Yamcha wanted to say, though, especially as he stared at the young half-saiyan's hair. It was hard not to notice the resemblance he bore to his father.

"Still," Krillin cut in. "It's not that easy. We've obviously thought about asking, but… it'd be cheating, wouldn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look, we're not gonna kid ourselves," Yamcha elaborated. "We know Goku's way out of our league right now. Even training for these guys feels like a bit of a waste, especially when we've got two Super Saiyans on our side. If you guys can't take them, there's no way we can… but, if we ask Goku to train us, that's basically saying we'd never catch up to him otherwise."

Shourai took a second to consider Yamcha's words while Chi-Chi slung a second rice cooker over her shoulder and began the long march back to her husband's friends.

"I wouldn't say that," he decided. "You're stronger than old man Roshi, right? And I'm sure you're probably as strong as King Kai. I've been told he's not all that strong, but— you still learned from him."

He let the words stew a second, then stood back up to full height.

"It's not a weakness to ask for help. Somebody told me that, recently, and I think it's something I believe in."

A silence set in between them for a minute, with Gohan looking more confused than ever. The young boy stared up at his future self, catching something in his eyes that the adults seemed a little too preoccupied to overlook.

"That reminds me, Shourai. I didn't wanna ask the day you said it, but you said the Androids come— er, came, a long time ago for you,right?"

Shourai nodded, and watched as his friends switched gazes between him and Gohan. He knew where this was going. He knew exactly what dots he'd have needed to piece together. Gohan was definitely coming at least one step closer to solving the puzzle, not that it would do him much good to know. If anything, it'd hurt him. Bearing that guilt so preemptively...

"Well, why didn't any of us help you? If the Androids arrive in a few years, we'd still be around, right? Surely, we could beat them all together!"

The question hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Yamcha glanced down at Gohan and ran a hand through his hair, while Krillin merely stared at Shourai. Did they already know? Was it possible that the reason for their reluctance was a resignation to a fate they hadn't yet suffered? He choked on his response.

"I…"

Chi-Chi cut her way back into the conversation before Shourai could fully form a response, depositing two massive rice cookers into Shourai's cart.

"There we are," she said, grinning wildly. "That should be everything. We'll still have to make a few trips back into town, but… what?"

She glanced between the three silent men and her now curious looking son, who all looked at least a little ashamed of themselves.

"I know that look."

Panic set in as the three adults slowly started to recoil preemptively.

"You're planning to take my son training, aren't you? I'll have you know that, killer monster cyborgs or no killer monster cyborgs, that's just not going to happen. He goes training with Goku and that green guy, Piccolo, three times a week already. I swear, if he comes home with _more_ bruises…"

"No, don't — it's not that," Krillin said, accidentally cutting Chi-Chi off out of panic. "We're planning a camping trip for the three of us. Maybe with Goku, too, but… not anything crazy, we promise. Gohan can stay home this time."

"Krillin, I—" Gohan started to interject.

"No, Gohan, Krillin's right. You've got studying to do if you want to start going to a real school soon. You've run off the last three of your tutors, you know. If you run off even one more, mister…"

"It's okay, er, Chi-Chi, I can find him someone," Yamcha said, before continuing in a low mutter. "At least, I'm sure Bulma can…"

Chi-Chi spent the next minute and a half glaring at the three of them accusatorily… while leading them toward the mall's exit. By the time they made their way out to the parking lot and then subsequently to the top floor of the parking deck (which was abandoned), their awkward silence had slipped back into something a little more comfortable.

Shourai could still feel the tension between them, but that was something that could be solved over time… after they'd finished getting all of Chi-Chi's groceries home. Bracing the two industrial sized rice cookers over his shoulders, he turned to Krillin and Yamcha, who were in the middle of tying together all of the items Chi-Chi'd asked them to carry home for her.

"Were you serious about that camping trip thing?"

"I mean, sure, if you really wanna go. Yamcha, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Nah, of course not. I guess, uh, we could… y'know, ask Goku to try teaching us the Kaio-ken or something. It'd cut down on time if he could teach us and then we could spar against the two of them," he said, gesturing to Shourai. "Don't think we'll win, but if we train alone, we're not gonna get very far. I've learned that lesson already."

* * *

Preparations for the trip didn't take long; their chosen campground wasn't far, either. Located near the East Capitol, Mount Sebone offered a scenic view of the local bamboo forest, which branched out thick and vast into the distance.

They'd set up camp at the top of the mountain, where its once great peak had given way to a massive lake. Nearby clouds spread out for miles, forming a canopy over the forest that obscured the forest from view on foggy days and early mornings.

The four men spent the first day of their trip comfortably setting up camp, putting together a makeshift campsite and fire that they used to cook the fish they caught in Sebone Lake. It was over a dinner of kipper and freshwater trout that Goku chose to explain the concept behind the Kaio-ken.

"Really, it's kinda simple," he said, tearing off a huge bite from his fish-on-a-stick. "Wharyougoddado is… mhm, you just…"

He swallowed and immediately ripped off another bite, continuing with his mouthful for another few minutes.

"Er, Dad, I don't think they know what you're saying. Not sure I—"

The kipper caught in Goku's throat, but a firm pat on the back from Krillin dislodged it. Clearing the last of it with a hearty cough, Goku glanced back to his son with surprise.

"They know who you are now?"

"Goku, there's no way that hair isn't genetic," Krillin said. "No offense to ya, Gohan, but it's good to know that you never get much better at keeping secrets."

"I didn't tell them," Shourai clarified.

"We figured it out a while ago, though. Not a lot of saiyans walking around anymore. Just you and Vegeta, right?"

Yamcha nodded, backing Krillin up, and turned another fish over the fire.

"Plus, kid, you're wearing a turtle hermit gi with your name on the back of it. You're lucky that you don't wear it around Gohan. Er, little Gohan, anyway."

"Yeah, he's going to be putting it together soon. At least, I'm pretty sure he will be. For all I know, he put it together on his own after that trip we took with Mom. I could see him questioning a lot of things there."

"Can't say I blame him," Yamcha muttered, looking serious. "Are we dead in the future? Or is there some other reason we didn't help our best friend's son?"

Goku replaced his now devoured fish with one he'd stuck into the ground beside the fire pit and watched the conversation unfold; Shourai explained that he was the only remaining Z-Fighter, even including the things he knew about Trunks and his parents. Yamcha wasn't particularly pleased by the news that his ex-girlfriend would be shacking up with a space prince, but he didn't openly complain about it. Krillin took it best, saying very little at all.

The whole idea of time travel probably weirded them out. Shourai got that. Time travel still confused him, sometimes. He could only imagine how Bulma felt, back in the future. How much time had passed for her?

"That's about it," he finished.

"Heavy," Yamcha replied, breathless.

"Do you think we've got a chance this time?"

Shourai took a second to think it over. Truth be told, he wasn't sure whether or not they'd make it, in the end. The Androids were overwhelmingly strong. They could've put Frieza down in one good hit, and he couldn't say that he'd ever come close to taking them both on at once… but numbers meant a lot, especially if they were backed up by strength.

"Teaching you guys the Kaio-ken is a good step," he answered, evading the question. "If we can do that, you guys should be able to hold your own against fighters like Piccolo before long."

"Good enough for me," Krillin said. "Goku, you were saying? Without the fish in your mouth, this time?"

Goku took a big gulp of fish and stabbed his stick into the ground beside him, leaning forward over the stone he sat on.

"Yeah, yeah, the Kaio-ken! Okay, so it's hard to explain, but easy to understand. The power that it gives you is temporary, in a way, because it's… well, the power has to come from somewhere, right?"

Krillin and Yamcha both nodded, listening intently.

"Where it's coming from, though, is your reserves. It burns through the stuff you hold back to keep yourself afloat. That's why I almost died against Vegeta. I was holding back as much as I could for a little while, hoping that I could beat him with a few well placed bursts… but he had too much power and kinda just rode me out, y'know?"

"So it's throwing off ballast, in a way," Krillin said. "You're tossing everything off the ship to move faster, even the essential stuff."

"Yeah, that sounds right. I think of it like burning through all your gas for speed."

"Alright. We get the drawback. How do we actually do it, though?"

"The first step is to find the depths of your power. You have to understand exactly what it is that you're capable of pushing out. Then, you distribute it in increments throughout your body — that's the part that actually makes you stronger. The more you force out, the faster, stronger, and better you get… but it doesn't make you any tougher, and the damage your body takes from doing it can be dangerous. If you push out too much at once, you might just lose control and explode."

"That's probably why King Kai wouldn't teach it to us," Yamcha said. "He said he only taught you because you absolutely needed it. Do you think we can learn it before the Androids come?"

"Learning how to do it's the easy part. Anybody can push themselves harder. Keeping it up in battle and not losing control over it is what's hard. Every time you get hit, you risk losing control. Adrenaline distorts things and makes you think you're not pushing yourself as hard as you are. If you're not careful, it'll eat you up."

Yamcha and Krillin took a minute to consider their friend's words. The Kaio-ken was a technique that could grant them a mastery over power they'd never held, but it was clearly a double edged sword. If even _Goku_ was stressing how dangerous it was, it must've been crazy hard to keep up.

"No pain, no gain," Yamcha finally decided. "Teach me, Goku. I want to be strong."

"Hey, don't leave me out," Krillin sputtered. "I swear, you're incorrigible."

* * *

They spent the first day coming to terms with the depths of their power, understanding how far they could push it without the Kaio-ken. On the second day, Yamcha moved onto the second step — and began distributing his ki across his body, furthering his own strength and understanding. To everyone's surprise but his own, the concepts of ki control came naturally to Yamcha. He understood how to manipulate it and how to disperse it, as well as how to maintain it. He couldn't have mastered the Sokidan without understanding that much.

On day three, while Krillin was still meditating, Yamcha was already utilizing a basic Kaio-ken. His power wasn't anywhere near as impressive as Goku or Shourai's, but it was a far cry from what he'd been holding up before. Even a basic Kaio-ken increased the body's power by over half, and Yamcha found that much doable by the end of the night. By the end of the week, Yamcha was far beyond even that.

"He's coming along fast," Shourai said, watching Yamcha spar Krillin, who was still only capable of a basic Kaio-ken.

The black-haired bandit shot to the monk's left and circled around him, burying his elbow in the bald man's back. Thunder broke over the mountain top as Krillin went flying through the air, steadying himself a fraction of a second before he went flying clean off the lip of the mountain. Bracing himself, Krillin dove back into the fray and collided with his friend in a flurry of superfast blows. Just barely stronger than Yamcha, his blows cut closer to home, but none found their mark; every shot went astray, either batted aside or dodged by millimeters.

Yamcha cut their dance short by jetting downward toward the surface of the water and shooting back toward the shore, near the campsite. Krillin gave chase without hesitation, blasting down through the air with his arm cocked back, wreathed in red flames.

Before he could close the gap, Yamcha brought his arms over his chest and inhaled. The storm raging around him crackled on and clung to him, inducing quick flashes of lightning that arced over the water and fizzled. An instant before Krillin could swing, the power in Yamcha broke through the floodgates.

Shourai and Goku gasped and watched as Yamcha swayed to the left, narrowly dodging Krillin's heavy strike, and buried his fist deep in the monk's nose. Once again, Krillin went flying across the lake and collided with the shore, kicking up a heavy cloud of dust and smoke that hung in the air like a foul odor. Yamcha pushed on after him, his power still burning, and dove into the smog.

"You're not kidding," Goku said, thumbing the tip of his nose. "If I'm not mistaken, he just pushed up to a times three."

"How strong's that make him now?"

"Well, he still can't take Frieza, but that's enough to take down Ginyu without much of a problem. If he can get that up to a times ten, he'd be strong enough to fight on par with Frieza's second form, with a little training."

Shourai rubbed at his chin with his off hand, watching as Yamcha was flung from the cloud and went arcing back inside, leaving a trail of red light in his wake.

"That's not anywhere near enough," he muttered.

"Well, you've gotta remember. He hasn't been gravity training at all, and he's already doing really well. If we can get him and Krillin to train together in a gravity chamber, then he'll probably catch up to us in no time… at least, if we don't go Super Saiyan, or anything."

Considering this, Shourai nodded and took a seat at the campsite. Yamcha's power was definitely hitting new heights, but he wasn't going to be breaking any records without a healthy supply of senzu beans and a good training partner. Krillin could probably do that for him, but he found himself wishing that Piccolo or Tien had volunteered to come with them on their little excursion. They would've been able to spur the others on — not that they weren't doing a good job already.

The cloud of dust over the lake dispersed when the two fighters met in the center of it, their fists colliding at speeds that would've shattered mortal men. Wind buffeted the campsite and blew the sticks planted there straight out of the soil, scattering them across the mountain below. Goku shielded his face with his arms and grimaced as two gods did battle on the lake.

He could feel every trace of the energy that they were burning through, and all that was left. They were both quickly coming to the edge of their reserves. Yamcha held the upper hand for the time being, but he was burning down at a much faster rate than Krillin. If he didn't take care of himself, he'd go down soon. Likewise, Krillin was risking a lot simply to hang with Yamcha up close; the smarter strategy would've been to hang back and…

Goku hadn't even finished the thought when Krillin shot backward over the water and went rocketing into the sky. Yamcha followed after him without wasting a breath, but Krillin wasn't going to make it easy on him. Bolt after bolt of crackling lightning showered down from the monk's perch above the clouds. Yamcha swerved around the first few and barreled straight through one on his ascent, his fist cocked back and his face wild with sweat.

"Ha!"

He shouted, reaching for Krillin's boot and catching the other man by the ankle. Their auras fused together for a fraction of a second before Yamcha shot downward, pulling his friend into a death spiral toward the lake.

Krillin fought for his freedom as they bulleted downward, but the open air offered him no purchase and nowhere to run; he wasn't strong enough to burst straight through Yamcha's pull, and there was no way for him to dislodge himself.

An instant before impact, the world slowed to a stop.

Yamcha's aura flickered out in a flash and Krillin's boot slipped free of the bandit's grip. Yamcha kept going and slammed into the surface of the water, sending pillars of blue vapor into the air as mist that settled over the battlefield while Krillin found his bearings and braced himself for his friend's return — he hadn't noticed that Yamcha'd run out of gas.

Energy welled up in Krillin's hands as he prepared himself, watching the water settle into glass and stop rocking.

It took a few seconds for Yamcha to come up from the lake, his breathing heavy and his body slick with both sweat and water. Droplets of smudged blood trailed from his nose and dribbled down his chin.

Goku and Shourai shot from their place at the camp as Krillin's energy dispersed and he dropped his Kaio-ken, the three of them gathering around Yamcha while he regained himself.

Floating on his back, he looked happy — triumphant.

"You okay, Yamcha?" Goku asked, while Shourai and Krillin fished him out of the water.

It took a few seconds to carry Yamcha back to the camp, but the smile was still burning bright when they plopped him down beside the fire. Panting heavily, the bandit took a little while longer to catch his breath before answering. Burns littered the surface of his skin, and the edges of his gi were singed by his power.

"Yeah, yeah, Goku. I'm… fine," he said, between breaths. "That felt... awesome. Krillin… are you okay?"

"Yeah, buddy, I'm fine. How're you doing?"

"I'm good, I promise, don't worry. Did you guys see that?"

When Shourai and Goku nodded, Yamcha laughed harder than he'd laughed in years.

"I think I went to times three, did you feel it too?"

Krillin sat down beside him and reached for one of the fish that they'd cooked before starting their spar, passing it to Yamcha with a grin.

"Yeah, we felt it, buddy."

* * *

Unfelt, a distant ship hovered in the atmosphere over Mount Sebone. Rimmed by golden spines, it spun in place, displaying the emblem of the Planetary Trade for those too far below to see it.

"This is the planet, my lord," Salza said, bowing beside his master's throne. Nearby consoles glittered with light, collecting the readings of the earthlings below. Though there were a few high readings, none were capable of defeating Lord Frieza, much less his father. Still, they had managed to acquire trails on a few familiar ki signatures, namely one that had fled Planet Vegeta in the year of its destruction. Coinciding with reports of a Saiyan on Namek, it was likely that the Saiyan below knew more of Frieza's demise than anyone else.

"Earth," Cooler replied, resting his cheek on his fist. The planet swirled on the viewing screen before him, the locations of its mightiest warriors highlighted by golden indicators. Four of them, including the Saiyan he was hunting, were grouped together at the summit of a mountain below.

"Warn the rest of my guard. We shall descend in the morning. I want that Saiyan's head — and everything inside its feeble brain."

* * *

_A/N: It's been a while. Sorry about that. Instead of excuses, how about we just get moving? I rewrote this chapter during my down time this week, for both clarity and quality reasons. Hopefully, it's better than the other chapters. I hope you guys like it._

_If you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the chapter reviews. I'll try to answer as many as I can with the release of the next chapter, which should be Thursday, March 23rd._

_Power Levels:_

_Goku (Pre-Training) - 7,975,000_

_Mirai Gohan (Pre-Training) - 11,000,000_

_Piccolo - 1,250,000_

_Gohan (Child) - 300,000_

_Krillin - 115,000 (Pre-Training)_

_Tien - 112,000 (Pre-Training)_

_Yamcha - 95,000 (Pre-Training)_


	10. The Regent

The fighters on the mountaintop spent the next day resting and recuperating from their training the day before, unaware of the four vengeful predators lurking in the upper atmosphere. Cooler and his armored squadron arrived a full forty-eight hours prior, having observed the sparring sessions between Krillin and Yamcha from a distance. The data they'd garnered from them hadn't been of much use.

Though they'd gotten a lot on two of the supposedly three humans, they hadn't figured much out about the Saiyan who had been present for Frieza's demise. His power readings were consistently low, and he rarely did anything but eat and offer advice. In the early mornings, he followed an active warm up routine, but his power level very rarely peaked over the thousands.

Admittedly, knowing that the earthlings could hide and alter their power levels was useful information, but they'd already garnered it from watching the two humans spar.

"I don't see the point in all this waiting," Dore finally said, his fist resting upon his cheek. Salza and Neiz were reviewing the footage of the two humans fighting, but only Salza seemed interested. "These guys're pipsqueaks."

"Says you, Dore," Salza responded, his eyes following the black-haired fighter's form carefully. He could see the minute flaws in his stance and the moments where he paused to draw breath. Everything about the man's style was wild and uncontrollable, but therein lied his predictability. There were only so many options a fighter could select in a fight, and in moments of desperation, men often strayed to the most comfortable. "I'm learning a lot about these… Earthlings."

"They're not very strong."

"Of course they aren't very strong. That does not make them sheep. They will still fight with their backs to the wall."

Dore shared a look with Neiz, then rolled his eyes. Studying weaklings was stupid. Altering their power wouldn't do them any good if they started off weak in the first place.

"I don't know why Lord Cooler hasn't let us attack them yet."

"The attack commences in a few hours, Dore. Be patient."

"I don't see a point in waiting s'all. We're either gonna win or we're not."

"Preparation makes all the difference, my friend. We are separated from our inferiors by our tact and patience."

"Funny, I thought we were just miles stronger than everyone else," the green man shot back, visibly frustrated. "I'm itching for some action. Last time, I only got to fight for a few seconds."

It was Neiz who interjected next, incredulous.

"Dore, you fought for three days straight! You're the reason we don't have a Coola #149."

"This time, a few seconds is all you might get, Dore. The leading theory is that this Saiyan killed Frieza," Salza explained, pausing the footage on the viewing console. "He may seem weak, but he could be suppressing the lion's share of his power. It would make sense that he could defeat Lord Frieza by tricking him in that way, perhaps by overwhelming him before he could transform."

A bead of sweat fell from Dore's brow.

"What? No way, this guy couldn't have killed Lord Frieza. Especially not if he hangs around weaklings like these!"

Salza once again pointed to the viewing screen, where a readout of power levels hovered on the left hand side.

"If you look, you'll see that the humans are all over a hundred thousand, and can peak somewhere near two. Even they won't be easy prey. Weak they may be, but weak they might not stay."

Dore looked at the readouts with a mixture of disbelief and displeasure. There was simply no way that the humans he was watching were stronger than he was — any of them. Sure, he could understand the Saiyan being a bit stronger than the rest, but Earth was a low tier planet. Its strongest fighter on the register was just over three hundred power level, total. How outdated was Frieza's information?

"We should inform Lord Cooler," Dore stated, looking significantly more worried than he did moments ago.

"He already knows, idiot. Why do you think I have been reviewing footage? He will be joining us in the field. If this Saiyan is as strong as we think he is, we cannot take him alone. Instead, we'll be handling the cannon fodder while Lord Cooler deals with him personally."

"So we're not even gonna fight the guy?"

"I didn't say that," Salza said, once again checking the screen.

"I didn't say that at all."

* * *

Morning came easy over the mountain; dawn broke and scattered the mists that obscured the forest, casting it in the pale glow of the early day. For Goku, this was the best time of the day to train. Dawn was a time of rebirth, when the burdens of the day before were shed and the challenges of the one to come were given life.

His friends slept beside the campfire as he pulled on his weighted shirt and stepped into the lake to catch a few fish. He could see them beneath the surface of the water, jetting back and forth to avoid him. They were fast, sure, but they weren't as fast as he was.

He'd just finished plucking a particularly snappy fella from the water when he heard something from the campsite.

Goku turned quickly, and caught sight of the three men perched around the fire pit. Clad in gleaming white armor and skin-tight bodysuits, they casually kicked at the remains of last night's fire, scattering the ash to the wind and carving trails in the thin gravel. None of the three fighters beside them had woken up yet, likely tired out from the night before. The Saiyan's eyes narrowed and the three fighters staring him down slowly rose to their feet. He didn't know how they'd snuck in so quickly. He hadn't even sensed them before they'd landed — had they been waiting somewhere, power levels hidden?

No, judging by the emblems on their armor, they were some of Frieza's men. As far as he knew, none of Frieza's men could hide their power levels. They were just fast enough to slip in from a distance, and skilled enough not to make noise. At least, most of them were. The big, green one with the long hair didn't seem too stealthy… judging by the fact that Goku had only heard one set of boots touch down, he was probably the culprit.

"So much for camping," he muttered, dropping his fish.

The three men kicked off from the campsite before it hit the water, blowing back the tent and the stones they'd used to house the campfire. Their backdraft shot the sleeping Krillin and Shourai off of the mountain, but Goku didn't have the time to watch them go flailing over the ledge.

The warrior with blue skin and blond hair caught him first, his hands alight with a menacing ki. Goku ducked beneath the fighter's first strike and wove forward, dancing right into the range of the green goliath that'd alerted him earlier. Power welled up in the Saiyan's fist as it struck home in the fighter's gut, cracking through the armor that covered his midsection.

Dore gasped, but persevered, wrapping his gloved hands around Goku's forearm.

"Eh, Goku?!"

Yamcha regained his footing in the ruins of the campsite. An aura of glittering blue flames kicked up around him as he darted forward, heading straight for a lizard-man lingering on the fringes of the fight. With Goku restrained, he was clearly looking for an angle to get a dirty shot in… and Yamcha wasn't gonna let that happen.

Goku desperately pulled against the green warrior's grip. He could feel the other fighter now, behind him, coming back. Dodging the first strike was easy enough, but he hadn't been playing a game of tug of war when he did it. Red light shot down the length of his arm as Dore pulled him in tighter, dislodging him at the last possible second. Salza went flying by him, careful not to accidentally collide with his ally and giving Goku the time he needed to shoot up into the sky.

Leading the two warriors on a deadly chase into the cloud cover above, Goku risked a glance down at the battle unfolding below. He could see Yamcha, squaring off with the lizard man below, and the two fighters chasing him… but he couldn't see Shourai or Krillin. He could sense them in the distance, occupied with another massive ki that he didn't recognize. It felt faintly like… Frieza, but more… dastardly, in a way. Whereas Frieza's had been sickening, this one was more like an overwhelming scent: dizzying in its own right, far harder to ignore.

Goku came grinding to a halt far above the mountain and watched his foes come to a stop in the air before him, their auras glittering around them. He could feel their power, bristling and burgeoning; each one was easily as strong as his son — the young one — and far deadlier. Still, they would be no match for him.

"So," he said, after a moment. "You wanna tell me who you are?"

"My name is Salza," the blue-skinned one said, bowing deeply. "And my big friend here is Dore. The one occupying your friend is Neiz. You are Son Goku, yes?"

Goku glanced down at the battle below.

He could see that Yamcha, even without his Kaio-ken, was managing to put up a good fight against Neiz, but the lizard's unique anatomy was proving to be troublesome. As far as Goku could tell, Yamcha couldn't get into close range, and the fire they were trading back and forth across the lake was proving difficult to dodge. He could sense Krillin coming back at breakneck speed. Blowing by the two guys in front of him would take a little effort, but using his full power would make everything too easy. Judging by the two scouters over their eyes, the other guys probably knew that too.

He exhaled.

"Yeah, that's me. Are you some of Frieza's men?"

Salza and Dore laughed.

"Hardly. We don't serve Frieza," Dore chuckled. "You gotta give us more credit than that, Saiyan."

"He is owed the same at least, Dore," Salza said, his laughter calming down. "I can see how someone with his prowess would get the jump on Frieza. He's capable of altering his power level, just as we thought. Did you see the spike when he broke your grip?"

"Felt it, too," Dore confirmed.

"It would appear that you're holding back on us, Son Goku."

Off in the distance, Goku could feel Shourai's power level rising. The scouters on Salza and Dore's heads beeped with concern, displaying numbers that the Saiyan couldn't read. Clouds conglomerated over the head of a massive golden geyser at the heart of the bamboo forest, pulled in by the weight of the young half-saiyan's power.

The three warriors from space turned to face the spectacle with growing concern — and collectively winced as their scouters exploded.

Krillin cleared the mountaintop seconds later, wreathed in a red cloak of ki that crackled with faint strokes of electricity. His left hand shot toward Neiz and a glittering mass of power broke free of his fingertips, reflected in the surface of the water. Neiz yelped and dodged to the left, but the blast circled back around seconds later… only to be smacked up at Dore.

Dore batted the blast aside with a heavy hand and gasped when he saw Yamcha in its wake, only to have the breath stolen from his lungs when the wild warrior slammed a knee into his chest. Kicking off of him before the fighter could strike back, Yamcha took his place beside Goku in the sky.

"Hey there, buddy," he said, grinning. "These guys seem a bit tougher than the rest of Frieza's goons."

"Good to see ya, Yamcha. I don't think they're with Frieza, though. I think they're serving that other power level, off with Gohan— er, Shourai. You know what I mean."

Yamcha nodded and sank into his combat stance, eyeing the two opposing warriors suspiciously.

"Yeah, that guy down there kept shouting something about a guy named Cooler at me. Cold, Frieza… Cooler's probably another one of those Frost Demons."

"You know nothing, human," Dore shouted, only to spit a fine red mist into the air a second later. He hadn't seen Yamcha coming and the blow clearly hurt more than he wanted to let on. "Lord Cooler is the new Emperor of the universe."

"Sorry," Goku said, clenching his fists at his sides.

"Not a big fan of emperors. They have a habit of being tyrants."

"You arrogant—"

* * *

In the forest below, Shourai's energy threatened to ignite the world at his feet. Bombed out craters littered the forest floor, macabre markers of Cooler's power left over from the chase that led them to their current battlefield. He'd managed to dodge most of them, thanks to Krillin drawing a lot of fire, but the left shoulder of his gi was already torn to shreds. Burn marks lingered over the skin and clung to the frayed edges of his undershirt, which he'd need to replace later.

Golden hair shimmered beneath the glow of his aura, obscuring a pair of stormforged eyes.

He didn't know how he'd forgotten about Cooler. All the nostalgia, maybe. It'd been a long time since he'd had a distraction as strong as his father and his friends. Still, it didn't add up — through his presence, he'd already altered so much… but Cooler wasn't supposed to arrive for another summer. Maybe the display he'd put on with Frieza and King Cold had drawn him in faster? Admittedly, he knew very little about the way Cooler worked. All he remembered was catching a glimpse of him before the actual fighting began.

With a guttural roar, Shourai pushed out the last vestiges of his power and reached his maximum strength.

"A brilliant show," Cooler applauded, sarcastically.

"Guess so," Shourai replied.

"Tell me, is that what my brother calls a Super Saiyan? He always tried to get me to buy into that old legend, but I never put much stock in it, myself. Always seemed superstitious, you see. Up until he died, at any rate."

Shourai waited, painfully aware that Cooler's little monologue was just beginning. Truthfully, he didn't have a lot of patience for monologuing. The only reason they were still talking was so that he could get some information, both from the horse's mouth and from the situation erupting on the mountaintop. He could feel his friends engaging Cooler's Armored Squadron, which didn't make a lot of sense.

His father could've picked them apart in an instant. So why hadn't he?

"Frieza was always a little bit of a brat, constantly underestimating his enemies, treating them like insects. I, however, know better. You monkeys always were a tenacious bunch. Given how much he feared you. I must say, though, you were not the one I came looking for. Is it possible that I missed another pod, that day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shourai responded, turning his gaze sights back toward the Frost Demon. "I was born here."

"I thought not. Maybe the other one's child, then. Would that make you a half-breed? Disappointing… but I see the potential in it. Saiyan strength, an earthen heart. That makes you more dangerous, the way I see it. Less prone to errors in judgement."

Rays of light conglomerated around the demon's fingers and clung to his skin, glittering purple.

"I'll take care of you first," he decided. "Then the other one, up on the mountain… provided my men don't get him first."

"Not gonna happen."

"We'll see about that."

The two men vanished in a flash of light, reappearing high above the forest. Shourai landed the first strike, burying his fist deep in the demon's cheek, and pressed his advantage. Blow after blow sailed into Cooler's chest, leaving fist-sized dents in his natural armor that sent him sailing backward after each impact. Though Shourai knew very little about his fighting style, the gap in power between them was clear.

Two more strikes bombarded the Frost Demon's chest, and a third slammed into his face milliseconds later. Spittle flew from the creature's foul mouth and surprise rang clear in his eyes, a marker of the same fear that his empire's many victims had felt before death.

Shourai punctuated his combination with a heavy, spinning kick that crashed into Cooler's left hip and sent him flying through shoots of stiff bamboo. Cooler recovered an instant before he would've hit the ground and came blasting back toward Shourai, eyes alight with rage and fear.

A swift and merciless backhand sent him flying once again, but the tyrant stabilized himself before hitting the treeline a second time. He inched forward, slicing the air with his left hand and unleashing thick swathes of energy that flickered toward Shourai at incredible speeds. The young half-breed swayed around them carefully, his eyes tracking each one as it entered his range and slid by him. He could tell by the way they moved that they were dangerous, coated by a serrated edge of ki.

He turned his gaze back to Cooler — but the demon was already in his guard. Shourai grimaced and swayed backward, dodging a flurry of blows that cleft holes in the air. He could hear the miniscule shockwaves flying off of each one, signals of his foe's strength. Though Cooler was weaker than he was, he couldn't say that he remembered his dad's fight going anywhere near as well as his was. Son Goku had come out of their little scrape with more than a little battle damage.

So what was Cooler hiding?

Shourai stepped into the Frost Demon's guard and slammed an open palm straight up against his diaphragm, forcing a spray of spittle and blood from his foe's lips. Cooler stumbled back across the sky, clawing desperately at the air for oxygen. Shourai pivoted and sent the demon plummeting to earth with a fierce roundhouse kick, watching as he broke through a sea of bamboo to create a new crater in the ground.

"You're holding back," Shourai said, descending into the forest and landing at the tip of Cooler's crater. Judgemental eyes followed the demon while he clambered back to his feet. "Don't tell me this is all you've got."

Covered in scrapes and bruises, Cooler glared up at his foe, furious.

"I understand, now, how you bested Frieza. I assume it was you, at least. No matter. I'm far stronger than my brother ever was."

"Doesn't look like it. I think he at least managed to hit me a few times. Could be wrong, though. At least your dad put up a fight."

Cooler screamed, drawing power from thin air. It wrapped around his body and shaped over his musculature, conforming to fit every nook and cranny. Shourai watched with mild interest while the demon's power climbed higher and higher, elevated to new heights by the weight of their conflict. He knew that egging Cooler on was a bad idea, but he had to know just how far he'd come. As irresponsible as it was, Cooler would be his first test of measure since coming to the past… and he couldn't pass up on that opportunity.

"Do it," he whispered, "show me all of it!"

Cooler obliged.

* * *

Back on the mountaintop, the battle was heating up.

Yamcha and Dore clashed in the sky over the lake like furious angels, their hearts beating in place of wings. Though Dore outclassed him in sheer power, Yamcha was more than capable of keeping up with a well maintained Kaio-ken. The issue of durability was troubling, though. Every blow practically bounced off of Dore, even after the warrior's armor shattered. Yamcha, himself, wasn't looking too hot. Numerous burns and cuts littered his arms, and the orange gi over his chest was in all but tatters.

He ripped its remains from his torso and tossed it to the wind as the two fighters separated once again. Red light swirled around him in defiance of the pain surging through his body; if he didn't end their battle soon, he was going to be in some serious trouble. Still, at least the others were faring well. Goku seemed more than capable of handling the blond guy, and Krillin was doing well against Neiz. That left him to face Dore alone.

Worrying, but nothing he couldn't handle.

"Not bad," he exclaimed. "You'd have wrecked me on any other day."

"You say that like you're gonna win today," Dore replied, wiping sweat from his brow. Admittedly, the earthling before him was a lot tougher than he'd initially expected. That didn't give him a free pass, though. Tough or not, he still had to die. "Any of the others, you'd be in luck. Not against me. Not today!"

He launched himself at Yamcha again, and the two fell back into rhythm, dancing across the sky in flashes and bursts that rumbled over the mountain. Despite the fear and the adrenaline of it all, Yamcha could see exactly why Goku did it — why he loved to fight, why he kept fighting. The thrill of facing someone that was actually on your level was unbeatable. He'd always been outclassed or in a league of his own. For once, he was fighting somebody on his level… and that was a lot more interesting than facing off against a space emperor or saiyan prince or somebody that was actually God in disguise.

Yamcha pelted Dore with jab after jab, but the green-skinned soldier batted them away with his wrists, returning fire once for every three of Yamcha's shots. Though Dore was strong, his bulky body held him back, keeping him just slow enough for Yamcha to work around. He'd landed a few good blows throughout the course of their fight already, but it was getting harder and harder for him to get any good ones in, especially as Yamcha came to understand his fighting style.

A wide strike flew by Yamcha's head and he took his opportunity. Dancing inward, Yamcha unleashed at point blank range, his open palms turning into claws that sliced into Dore's flesh. Blow after blow carved into the green man's body and drove him back while Yamcha steadily built rhythm, funneling more and more energy into each successive blow — until coming to a head with one final bashing strike that sent Dore careening across the sky.

Down below, Goku wove in and out of Salza's precise slices, distinctly aware of the humming blade at the end of the alien's hand. It was a lot like Krillin's kienzan; if it made contact, it'd cut through whatever it hit… Goku included.

The Saiyan slid backward over the water, kicking up a trail that Salza carved through a moment later, his eyes fixed firmly on the Saiyan's location. Cautious, Goku took aim with his left hand and unleashed a gently shimmering beam of light that cut through the space between them and cleaved through the soldier's shoulder guard. It fell into the lake unceremoniously, but Salza seemed unperturbed.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Goku taunted, sounding disappointed.

"You're right."

Salza extended his off hand and Goku flinched, despite being over ten yards away. He prepared for the wave of ki that was soon to come… and failed to notice the thin strands of light that actually launched from the soldier's fingers. They wrapped themselves around the Saiyan's wrists and tightened. Goku glanced down as Salza tugged him forward, pulling him in close for another stab.

Yelping, Goku vaulted over Salza with a quick burst of ki… only to be pulled back in a second later, tugged by the strings on his wrists.

Salza struck again with his blade, this time cutting through the surface of Goku's weighted shirt and painting a thin line of blood over his chest, but failing to find his mark. The Saiyan grimaced, pulling his wrists back as he tumbled by Salza's left side and right into a harsh kick that sent him skittering to the shore. He tugged hard, but the blond man showed no reaction.

"One way, huh?"

"Very," Salza grinned, pulling on the strings once again. Like a puppet, Goku flew toward his dark master, his face glowing with excitement. Salza extended his blade hand, but Goku put his boots out in front of him — kicking the smug alien right in the chest and launching him backward. Goku flipped backward through the air, only to be drawn forward again when Salza pulled him mid-flip. Raw energy wrapped itself around Goku's body as he flew into Salza's range, moving with the natural momentum of the pull.

In theory, Salza's techniques and strategy were simple. He focused his ki into certain shapes, then manipulated them to make them do what he wanted. Still, that didn't make it much easier to fight… at least, not on the puppeteering front. Instead, Goku concentrated his energy into the tips of his fingers at the moment Salza struck with his blade.

Rivulets of lightning crowned around the site of their collision, but neither fighter gave way. Goku's ki hummed with life and sizzled against Salza's blade, which struggled against the Saiyan's aura and found no advantage there.

"What—?! How?!"

Goku took advantage of his opponent's surprise to push his advantage, clearing their lock by swiping his arm to the right. Salza's blade arm went wide to the side, opening his guard, and then subsequently slumped when Goku buried a heavy fist deep in his gut.

Coughing, Salza stumbled back over the water, his blade still sizzling with light. The monkey was strong, alright… but Lord Cooler would be there soon. Surely, the sounds on the distance were that of his battle coming to a close. There was no way that he would allow them to be defeated by such pathetic, ingrateful monkeys!

It was then that he felt it; defying explanation, a new power rose in the distance that forced the hair on the back of his neck to stand. Even Goku glanced toward the bamboo forest, where a massive pillar of bright purple light was surging into the heavens.

"Huh?"

Salza slowly stood, drawing himself back to full height, and cackled.

"Filthy monkey, you must feel it too, eh? I can feel it, even without my scouter. That power, the power to render all helpless — that is the Emperor's true form! You will all be dead before the end of the day," Salza shouted, his voice cracking. Cooler's true power was an impressive sight, but it was not one that he was eager to see. Precise as he was, casualties always followed in his lord's wake, especially in such pitched battles.

"Your friend will be dead soon," he said, turning his attention back to Goku. "All I have to do is hold you here."

Goku studied the horizon for a moment, hesitantly releasing his combat stance. Salza blinked and laughed, caught entirely off guard by the insanity of such a thing.

"You understand, eh? That you and your friends are all doomed? That's good enough for me!"

In a rare moment of overconfidence, Salza surged forward, his blade brought to bear over his shoulder. Goku didn't bother to look at him.

His blade came down hard and fast — and flickered out an instant before impact, deactivated by the sudden collision of Goku's closed fist with the center of its owner's chest.

* * *

Shourai descended while Cooler's power skyrocketed, touching down on the brittle forest floor while the earth beneath him shook. He could feel the Frost Demon's power spiking into the heavens, reaching beyond the strength of his dead brother and touching the tips of an altogether new strength. The clouds, already stirred by Shourai's earlier display, scattered to the wind and dispersed. Loose reeds of bamboo were plucked from the forest floor, while the stiffest trees shattered beneath Cooler's might.

Raging, violet light surged around the Frost Demon's body like a hurricane, cutting thick swathes into the earth and tearing apart the crater that housed him.

Almost as soon as it was over, the storm subsided and drew back, reigned in by the arrival of Cooler's true and final form. Shrouded by ki and heat haze, the tyrant-regent glanced down at his own hands. A set of sinister blades sprouted from his forearms, which were significantly larger than they'd been a minute ago. Everything about him was bigger, in fact — thicker, more solid. The natural armor covering his chest had expanded into a full cuirass, covering his shoulders and spreading down to his waist.

A crown made of the same material had formed over his head, centered by a massive, glimmering sapphire. Ridges poked out at all angles, likely meant as a natural defense against overhand chops and swinging blades. Cooler straightened and clenched his fists, forging two more shining pairs of sapphires that grew in the center of his new bracers and ankle cuffs.

The final vestiges of his aura faded and dispersed into the gemstones scattered throughout his body; an armored mask clamped shut over his mouth seconds later, completing the grim transformation.

"This is my power," Cooler said, glancing up to the lip of the crater, where Shourai stared down at him in disdain. "Far higher than my brother's. Rivaling even my father's."

"I thought, at first, that you might've gotten the jump on Frieza… but no, your power would suffice in killing him. Had I not transformed, I wouldn't have stood a chance."

He paused, and glanced toward the sky. Shourai didn't follow his gaze, but he could only imagine that the tyrant was looking toward the ship hovering over the mountainside.

"I'm not my brother. I won't offer you a place at my side, for this generosity. I will kill you for this _disrespect_, monkey, and I will do it _slowly_. You are the first to see me in this form — and it will be the last thing you ever see."

* * *

_A/N: Hey there, guys. Hope this chapter was worth the read. Next chapter release will be Wednesday. _

_Q: Why did Gohan kill Frieza? With Goku coming, it's not like he needed to._

_A: Gohan killed Frieza because he needed to earn the trust of his friends. Though many of them could probably piece together that he wasn't evil, the quickest way to earn their trust was to defeat Frieza and his father, especially since his father was incoming anyway. Telling them that he was a warrior from the future would've been a little hard to swallow without at least a little proof (IE: the Super Saiyan display against Frieza)._

_Q: Does Gohan have one arm? Will he get it back, if so?_

_A: Gohan does have his arm. Due to Bulma finishing the time machine early, he hasn't lost it against the Androids… at least, not so far._

_Q: Chi-chi's going to know that's her son. She isn't stupid. Also senzu beans heals all wounds instantly, so Gohan shouldn't be tired or fatigued.  
A: I can't comment on this much, but I'd consider who already knows and make inferences as to what she might know herself. I will definitely confirm that she isn't stupid. On the senzu bean count, Gohan's "fatigue" was more than just physical. He'd been restored, physically, but he needed to get a lot off his chest, and couldn't concentrate while sparring with his father. In a fight that takes place at super speed, stopping for even a millisecond to think will get you in hot water, and weaken you considerably._

_Q: Will Piccolo &amp; Tien also learn the Kaio-ken?_

_A: I can't say I see Piccolo being a big fan of the Kaio-ken, but I have a few different possibilities in mind for him and Tien. I definitely want them to be relevant, especially during the mini-arc I have planned after this one._

_Q: Why did Krillin &amp; Yamcha feel like learning from Goku would be cheating?_

_A: They're below him in power, but they're still at the stage in their lives where it feels as though they can still be rivals… or at least, competitors. Sure, Goku dwarfs them in a lot of ways, but they basically grew up together._

_Q: King Cold's speed should've increased in his third form, to match his power._

_A: It did. This is a lot of the reason why Gohan had trouble adjusting while fighting him; if you look carefully, you'll notice that he was taking a lot more hits than he was before the transformation took place._

_Hero Power Levels: _

_Goku - 200,000 (Suppressed vs. Salza)_

_Goku - 8,250,000 (Pre-Training Base)_

_Mirai Gohan (Pre-Training Base) - 11,000,000_

_SSJ Mirai Gohan - 156,000,000_

_Krillin - 122,500 (In Training)_

_Krillin - 183,750 (Kaio-ken)_

_Yamcha - 105,000 (In Training)_

_Yamcha - 157,500 (Kaio-Ken)_

_Yamcha - 210,000 (Kaio-Ken x2)_

_Cooler's Armored Squadron Power Levels:_

_Neiz - 173,000_

_Salza - 185,000_

_Dore - 195,000_

_Cooler - 105,000,000_

_Final Form Cooler - 170,000,000_

_As you can see, I raised Cooler's final power output and adjusted some of the numbers for his Armored Squadron._


	11. To Reign

Two bolts of lightning collided in the skies over Sebone.

Shourai rained blow after blow down upon Cooler's guard, but the demon bobbed and wove out of every strike, his eyes tracking each one as they went by. A particularly ambitious punch sailed over his left shoulder and he reached out, grabbing the boy by his wrist. Shourai tugged hard, but Cooler's grip was absolute, and as he was being slung over the demon's shoulder he couldn't help but to wonder how he'd fallen into the same exact trap twice.

Shourai's aura crackled back to life as he righted himself in the air and descended through the bamboo thicket that was Sebone Forest. A meteor of violet wrath followed after him, blowing through the trees and transmuting wood to ash. Flares of ki popped free of the Super Saiyan's aura and fanned out, dropping off toward Cooler in an attempt to slow his pursuit — but the frost demon blew past them, popping forward to intercept his foe.

"What?!"

Shourai gasped and spun fast in the air, but Cooler's extended hand caught him by the face before he could blow by. Bony fingers gripped at his cheeks and dragged him to the forest floor, grinding him against the dirt and debris until he was thrown unceremoniously back into the sky.

He applied the air brakes by crouching in the air over the bend of a rushing river, his aura still blazing around him like an inextinguishable flame. Cooler came blasting out of the forestry mere moments later, his left fist cocked back and his eyes glittering with hate.

Shourai ducked beneath the incoming strike and returned fire with an uppercut that smashed into Cooler's jaw. The demon reeled back and fired off a series of quick jabs that peppered Shourai's guard, but found themselves parried before they could make purchase.

Dancing above the river, Shourai understood exactly how he'd fallen into Cooler's trap. He understood why King Cold received the chance to transform against him, too, though he wasn't sure he could've actually stopped that one in the end. For as much as he pretended to ignore it, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the fire that burned inside of his soul was the one thing that could reduce his doubt to ash. In combat, he was validated. In combat, he was neither inadequate nor unprepared: he merely was.

Still, Cooler was a lot more dangerous to trifle with than his brother. Where Frieza had little to no martial arts training, Cooler at least knew a little. He hadn't been able to utilize it while outclassed, but with his increase in power had come an increase in speed, and that gave him a key advantage that Shourai understood all too well.

With the speed differential between them, Cooler had the benefit of processing time.

Shourai batted down a right cross and slumped forward, only to kick on the afterburners and pull Cooler down into the cold river below. A geyser of steam and water exploded into being as they went under and Cooler's back slammed into the soil at the bottom. Bubbles escaped through the alien's visored mask as he gasped and kicked Shourai back out of the water.

Shourai emerged just as the pillar of water came crashing back down, his hands already shimmering with crackling light. Stray bolts of electricity danced across the surface of the two spheres consuming his wrist, only to dissipate when the spheres doubled in size.

"That's right," Shourai muttered, grinning like a bloodied madman. "Come up for some air!"

He brought both hands up over his head, forging the two masses of light into one, overwhelming sphere of power. His leg bent backward as he sank through the air and unleashed a massive wave of glittering, golden fire just as Cooler came flying out of the water, guard wide open.

A second boom rocked the river as the blast swallowed the demon whole and detonated, producing a cloud of smoke and wind that sent water flying up onto nearby banks. The smog settled over it all, blocking the battlefield from view… leaving Cooler both wounded and blind.

Beams of glittering violet light cut holes through the cloud as it expanded, darting through the space Shourai occupied before the blast went off, and revealing the demon's location. Shourai darted in from the side, burying his knee in Cooler's hip, and went blasting back out on the other side of the cloud. Another violet beam glittered after him, but he broke to the right and dashed back in, this time making his mark with a violent right hook that smashed against the demon's cheek and staggered him.

Instead of leaving the cloud, Shourai rattled off a number of quick jabs into Cooler's armored abdomen, leaving pockmarks against the demon's already singed breastplate.

Cooler swiped downward with his left hand to knock the Super Saiyan at the water below. Shourai grunted and stopped himself inches from the water's surface, then veered hard to the left so that he once again exited the cloud.

So far, his hunch was working out for him.

Processing time or not, one fact remained: Cooler couldn't sense him. He had no idea where Shourai would come from, as long as the smoke obscured his movements. Hearing would've been an option… were it not for the sounds of distant battle still raging in the distance and the constant burning of Cooler's own aura. The simple fact was that, as long as the cloud persisted, Shourai was basically invisible until the moment he chose to reveal himself.

Cooler roared from the depths of the cloud and Shourai grimaced. The demon's power spiked upward once again and dispersed the cloud by kicking up a windstorm that once again scattered the poor river beneath them.

"Cute trick," Cooler grunted, rubbing the mask over his chin. Shourai wondered if there was some red gathered there, stuck to the white. "It would've worked on my brother. It might've worked on my father, too."

"For all of my preaching, I understand that I might not have given you enough credit. It doesn't matter, mind you. You will still die, like your friends, but I will survive."

The demon cocked his wrist back, parting the water beneath him with an invisible outcry of ki. Heat haze blurred and gathered over it, followed by a blinding roar of light that burned the river and its foam away. Cooler watched as the light splintered and rushed after the water's remains, devouring all that rushed in to fill the new gap. He spared a second's glance at the unimpressed Shourai and waved his hand over the bed.

Pinpricks of light blossomed over the remains of the Sebone River and detonated along its banks for miles around, scouring the riverbed of water and life.

Shourai's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.

"I am the one who decides who lives and who dies," Cooler continued, raising a fist over his head. An army of bamboo stalks rose up on the yet untouched side of the river, their roots plucked from the ground like blades of grass. "I am the great destroyer, the taker of lives!"

Shourai spared a glance over his shoulder as the ends of the trees were sheared away and reduced to spear tips. Ki flickered in his left fist, but he didn't react. Instead, he let his gaze settle back on Cooler, who was still monologuing.

"I am the supreme master of the universe, and it is my will that you be annihilated!"

Bamboo whistled on the wind as a thousand wooden missiles flew straight for the brand on the Super Saiyan's exposed back. Shourai spun and swept his hand through the air, unleashing a gout of power that reduced wood to ash and blackened the earth beneath it to a cinderous scar. Cooler's knee buried itself in his spine a second later, knocking the air straight out of Shourai's lungs.

Shourai pivoted and swiped out in retaliation, but Cooler was already gone. Electricity crackled over the Super Saiyan's chest and expanded with a sickening cackle just as Cooler reappeared, his fist racing for the hybrid's exposed diaphragm.

Lancets of lightning bloomed outward as Cooler's fist met Shourai's power barrier; tiny balls of light spread outward from the source of the impact, blossoming across the entire front side of the Super Saiyan's makeshift defense. Shourai exhaled and an array of shimmering golden beams cut through the space between them, detonating over the demon's chestplate and sending him careening through the air.

The barrier dissipated as Shourai gave chase, his fists cocked at his waist as he closed the gap between them. He jerked upward in the air and sank like a stone, hammering deep into Cooler's midsection. The demon fell to earth like an angel dropped from the heavens and landed in the thick layer of ash that Shourai's earlier blast forged.

Shourai descended gracefully and touched down a few meters away, aware that Cooler still drew breath. His little assault hadn't done much more than catch him off guard and piss him off, surely.

No, it wasn't going to be that easy. Easier than beating the Androids though.

There was only one Cooler, after all. And if the surge of power from the mountaintop behind him was any indicator, there were about to be two Super Saiyans on the field.

* * *

Back on the mountain, Yamcha was getting a pretty good workout in. He and Krillin were running circles around Dore and Neiz individually, and Goku was proving far more than a match for the femme looking blue guy on the lake.

Exhaling as a powerful boot sent Dore careening off into the sky, Yamcha steadied himself and prepared to give chase. Dore was definitely capable of taking a punch, but he'd been laying it on thick enough to shatter the guy's armor and leave a few dents in his ego. Before he could blast off after his prey, something materialized beside him in the sky with a gentle whoosh.

Yamcha spun and kicked hard to the side — only for Goku to block the blow with his left forearm.

"Hey, Yamcha! Uh, my bad!"

"Goku! Could you give a guy a warning?"

"Sorry, no time. You sense the other fight, right?"

"Yeah, between… Gohan? Shourai? And that Cooler guy? I still think we should just call him Gohan, by the way. Since we're alone."

"Yeah, I might be needed over there. Can you and Krillin handle these guys for awhile while I go and deal with that?"

Yamcha spared a glance in the direction of Shourai's battle with Cooler. He could feel the clash growing more and more distant, but fiercer with every passing moment. More worrying, though, was the fact that Cooler's power was a little larger than it'd been a few minutes ago. The bandit's brow furrowed a little, but he nodded.

"Don't worry, bud. Go help out over there. Krillin and I can group up and handle these dorks for a bit."

"Awesome! I'd be really disappointed if I didn't at least get a swing in at the guy," Goku said, his face lighting up. A golden storm swallowed him from tip to toe a second later as he transformed, his normally dark eyes giving way to teal twins.

"I figured as much. You didn't knock out the guy down there for me, did ya?"

"Nah, you've got him, bud. Just don't overdo it. If you need me, shoot up a flare and I'll pop back if I can!"

Yamcha laughed as Goku faded from view, his body vanishing with the subtle whirr that heralded his absence. Krillin came blasting up from the shore of the lake a moment later, breathing a little heavy. Neiz was nowhere to be seen, but Yamcha could feel his power level in the distance, grouping up with the other members of Cooler's Armored Squadron. Clearly, they hadn't expected to get such a thorough thrashing. Then again, Goku'd played a pretty big part in that.

Still, Yamcha wasn't worried. At the very least, he and Krillin could stall things out till Goku got back. It'd be a little touch and go, but he couldn't imagine Cooler would last long against two Super Saiyans.

"Goku gone already?" Krillin asked.

"Yeah, he went to go help Shourai out."

"Right," Krillin replied, rubbing his chin. "You'd think we could just call him Gohan or something, since we're the only ones out here."

"Forms a bad habit, I guess."

"I guess. Speaking of bad habits, I'm starting to feel a little tapped. You might've got the hang of this Kaio-ken thing, but I'm still getting used to it, and these goons are still hanging around."

"We could probably just stall them out, right?"

"No way," Krillin said. His hands went to his waist and fiddled with something in his belt. "They'd outlast us if they came for us head on. Even if they just ganged up on one of us, it'd still be a tough fight. I've got a better idea though."

He pulled a little brown sack out of his sash and held it up to Yamcha. The bandit could hear the rattle of little beans bouncing around inside.

"Krillin," Yamcha said, his eyebrows raising a little. "Are those what I think they are?"

"Yeah! Goku's got blown off of the mountain when those guys showed up, but I brought my own. Just in case. Whattaya say we eat some and cut loose a little bit?"

"Y'know what?"

Yamcha glanced over Krillin's shoulder. Cooler's men were blasting straight for them now, leaving a violet trail in their wake.

"I'd love to!"

* * *

Goku materialized next to Shourai and stepped forward in a single, smooth motion. He cracked his knuckles to clear the air, grinning all the while. His son, beside him, couldn't help but to echo his father's expression, glad to finally be on the right side of the handicap.

Cooler, still brushing the dust off of his bracers and chest, glanced up at the Saiyan's sudden arrival.

"Oh," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Two monkeys. Double the fun, double the blood."

"I don't think so, Cooler," Goku replied.

"Your brother and father underestimated us, too. They both paid the price. Is that what you want? To die here too?"

"I don't intend to die here, filth. This backwater planet is befitting of your grave, but not mine. After I kill you, I'll return to take my place at the head of their empire — the one that I now control alone."

Shourai squared his shoulders while his father took control of the situation. He'd been beaten up a little bit, but he was still feeling pretty good. The battle was just getting started, after all. Sure, there were a few rips and tears on the fringes of his gi's sleeves and there was a thin line of blood trickling from his bottom lip, but he'd taken harder hits before. Plus, with his dad there… giving up wasn't an option. They were both Saiyans, anyway. The harder Cooler hit them, the clearer it all became.

There was a certain clarity to be gleaned from the pain: every hit rattled away a little dust, and every beam illuminated more and more of the way forward.

"You're a lot stronger than Frieza, I'll give you that," Goku admitted, letting his hands drop to his hips. "That's not going to make much of a difference against us. Give up now, and go home! If you leave peaceably, we won't need to hurt you!"

Cooler brought one hand up to his neck and massaged the left side of it, rubbing away some of the pain that the younger looking monkey had inflicted upon him earlier. The two men before him were clearly powerful, in weight classes of their own. His power, though, was unfathomable. The joints connecting his neck to his shoulders popped audibly as he collected his thoughts.

The two men before him were unaware of their position on his kill list. They weren't aware of his intentions, or his purpose.

"You misunderstand me. My last statement wasn't meant to be indicative of my strength. I am here in mourning, to carry out a duty that my family failed to complete. You two, for all the power you wield, for all the claims you make, are dead men. I am here to ensure that," he said, tail slamming the ash. "And I am dutiful to a fault."

Cooler flashed forward and buried his fist deep into Shourai's gut. The half-saiyan lurched while his father sprung into action, leaping to his child's defense. Goku's fists flew at breakneck speeds into Cooler's guard, peppering the demon's shoulders and exposed head until he stumbled back, leaving Shourai a moment to recover.

The two fighters shot forward in unison, pursuing Cooler over the ashen wastes of Sebone's once prosperous forest. Clouds of quickly dashed gray sprang up in their wake as they pushed the demon back over the landscape and off of a large, marblesque cliff overlooking the distant East Capitol. Shourai hung back while his father followed Cooler down the side of the cliff. Energy gathered at his fingertips while the demon exchanged lightning fast blows with his father, their pace never wavering.

Strike after strike sailed between the two of them until Cooler batted Goku aside with an unexpected tail swipe, leaving him wide open for Shourai's already prepared blast. A glistering wave of ki raced down the cliff face toward Cooler, only to be deflected with a smack right the swiftly returning Son Goku.

Goku swerved around it and collapsed on Cooler with Shourai, who had been following in the wake of his blast.

Punches like missiles flew in from the front and side as Cooler hung in the air, his eyes flickering back and forth while the two Saiyans did their best to overwhelm him. The demon's hand swept through the air over his chest and a glowing, purple platform materialized between he and Shourai, forcing the Saiyan to halt and dash around. In the meantime, Cooler drove his knee into Goku's gut and flew on, leaving Shourai to tag along in his wake while his father went for a wild ride on the end of their foe's bony knee.

Banking hard to the right, Cooler slammed Goku into the white cliffs and smacked Shourai toward the earth below.

"Do you understand yet, monkey?!"

Surrounded by a cloak of rustling violet, Cooler drove Goku deeper into the rock, forcing a pained grunt from the man that'd been so noble seconds ago. Cooler reared back and struck at his target — but the Saiyan vanished, leaving his fist to strike only rock.

The demon turned to check the air behind him, but nothing was there, which meant…

Goku and Shourai both struck home at the same time, their boots colliding with Cooler's exposed chin and launching him up to the lip of the cliff face. He recovered inches over the edge and brought both hands over his head, leaving rivulets of violet light to run down his arms and mass into a sphere that consumed his wrists whole.

Beneath him, the two Saiyans charged up the cliffs, determination alive in their eyes.

Cooler arms thrust downward and a wave of unearthly size came to life at his will. It raced downward and devoured the air before it, eating away at the rock of the cliff face below it to threaten his foes.

Aware of the blast's approach, Goku put his hand on Shourai's shoulder and touched two fingers to his forehead… and the blastwave blew through where they were as they appeared above Cooler, now angled straight for his back.

Shourai led the charge by tackling the demon around the waist and pouring on the burners, accelerating at breakneck speeds until the two of them crashed into the fields below, through them, and into an underground cavern beneath them.

Debris fell through the hole with Goku as he followed them into the semi darkness of the cavern. Cooler threw Shourai off with a daredevil's spin instants before hitting the cave's floor and shot up toward Goku, hoping to break back through the hole they'd created.

Goku met him halfway and took aim for the demon's face with a ruthless, dead angle punch to the nose… but Cooler wove out of the way, striking back with a fierce blow of his own. Goku managed to tilt his head to dodge the worst of it, but the blade on his bracer left a thin, red trail across his cheek as the demon went blasting out into the open air.

Goku turned just in time to dodge a shimmering, deadly beam of light that would've blown through his shoulder… but Shourai only saw it as it whizzed by his father, and turned a fraction of a second too late. It tore through his left shoulder, leaving a thin trail of dissolving blood to sizzle in the Super Saiyan's wake as he continued onward.

The two men popped out of the hole in the ground and separated on the grass, where Cooler had once again taken pause. He was breathing a little heavier now, but his power was still just as immense as before.

Goku could, however, notice the subtle differences in it. Just like with Frieza, Cooler was burning through all of his reserves to keep the fight going — or to try and end it fast. Though his new form didn't take anywhere near as much out of him as Frieza's full power did, it was clear that maintaining it was still a burden.

After the fight against Cold, Goku'd totally forgotten about the toll transformations took on Frieza's kind. Cold, who only had the chance to fight at an infinitesimal fraction of his full strength, never felt the stamina drain… but for Cooler, who'd been going at a hundred percent for the entire fight, it was starting to kick in.

Goku glanced over toward Shourai, whose eyes were narrowed.

He could only hope that his son understood the same thing. Even if it took him longer to notice, it was also imperative that he say nothing of it. Cooler was a lot smarter than his brother, but he was just as arrogant. Unless one of them pointed it out, chances were good that he wouldn't notice. They could win the battle purely through attrition… so long as they didn't take any killshots. The wound in Shourai's shoulder was definitely a reminder of how dangerous Cooler still was, even if his weakness was becoming apparent.

Goku took a glowing finger to the cut on his cheek and pressed down, cauterizing the cut and stopping the flow of blood while he had the chance. He didn't know how long Cooler was going to let them gather their breath. Truth be told, ganging up on the guy wasn't too easy in itself. Cooler was only a little stronger than Shourai was, but as the weakest of the three, Goku didn't have any room to blink. Every move he made was being planned in advance, taking a lot more things into account than he could list.

His strength wasn't necessarily in strength alone; Son Goku's power came from something else entirely. Though his mind was useless for math, chess, and almost any difficult academic pursuit… his opponents were a different subject. Every blow was a hint, a clue to the puzzle that Cooler didn't know he'd become. Every time one landed, even when they missed, he was letting slip little bits of his strategy. The longer the fight dragged on, the more Goku would know.

"When my brother blew up your planet, I wondered if letting you go was a mistake," Cooler said, breaking the silence. His eyes bore holes in Goku's own. "I wondered if my brother's misstep would one day become my own."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Goku said, dropping back into his combat stance. "Your brother's mistake was becoming a tyrant and a nightmare."

"Yes, and letting you go, monkey. You may not remember it, but he let your pod leave Vegeta's atmosphere, and then spared a handful of pets to tame as he went. Allowing you to leave, whether unnoticed or out of arrogance, was his mistake."

Shourai stepped to the left and let his feet carry him in a circle around Cooler. Goku, on the other side, followed him, making sure to keep the demon between the two of them. The battle would resume soon, violently.

"If you're just gonna sit here and monologue… well, I've never had a stomach for that. Frieza did the same thing. As different as you think you are, you're both the same, at your core. He didn't know when he was beat either."

Wind buffeted the plains, and in an instant, found itself filled with brutal thunder.

* * *

Krillin ducked beneath a sizzling blade of ki and lowered his shoulder into Salza's chest, only to pivot to weave out of the way of an incoming elbow from Dore, his boots cutting little trails in the grass as he reestablished his balance. Yamcha rolled in around him in order to parry a strike from Neiz, whose arms were stretching across the lake in order to assail them. They'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm over the course of the battle, but neither side had yet proven capable of garnering an advantage.

Salza's ki blade kept them ducking and dodging, while Neiz constantly sought to catch one of them off guard from a distance. Dore, in the meanwhile, came at whichever one of them was free, serving as the muscle that kept them from fighting in perfect tandem.

The difficult part of the whole thing, really, was breaking the equilibrium.

It was easy to get one of Cooler's men to back down for a second, but the other two picked up the slack every time, ready to back their comrade up. It would've been inspiring if it weren't one of the most frustrating things Krillin'd ever experienced. The Ginyu Force hadn't been so synced up… but then again, he'd been weaker back then.

Yamcha pushed hard into Salza with a flurry of wild blows and low kicks that kept him weaving backwards, earning Krillin a little space.

Before he could utilize it, Dore came crashing back down in front of him; the green soldier's fist collided with the earth, forging a crater that took Krillin's feet out from under him and caught him off balance. The monk scrambled in the air, but Neiz's hand was already coming back in. It gripped tight around his ankle and pulled hard, tugging him across the lake and separating him from Yamcha.

The bandit didn't have the time to turn around before Dore's knee was in his back and he was stumbling forward. Salza rushed in to greet him, a blade of sizzling light barking at the ends of his fingertips. Yamcha grimaced and bent forward, catching Salza's wrist an instant before the blade could plunge into his prey's chest. Beads of sweat rolled down Yamcha's brow as he struggled to keep Salza's hand from moving forward — the awkward positioning and the angle made it difficult to use the lion's share of his strength… and with Dore behind him…

The world turned red.

Geysers of red light broke through the ground and conflagrated in the air, setting fire to the oxygen and reducing it to kindling for Yamcha's now growing power. Lava burned through the blood in his veins as his strength rose and he went up a weight class; ki burned through his eyes and seeped through his every pore, tearing away at the ground beneath his feet.

He shot backward, pulling Salza off of his feet and blowing right by Dore. He spun around the hapless green man and slung Salza off into the distance while Dore retreated.

"W-what the hell is this?!"

Dore, recovering himself, dashed in low over the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. A demon turned around to face him, eyes glowing red and body distorted by a wave of unrelenting heat haze that forced Dore to come grinding to a halt while he was still a few feet away. A torrent of menacing power devoured everything before him, from the rock to the oxygen to the tips of his boots.

"You're not going to scare me!"

He dove forward as Yamcha brought his hand up and was swallowed by a flash of red light that broke across the water and detonated in the open air over the once beautiful bamboo forest and scattered the ash it had become.

Before the ash could settle, Neiz grunted as Krillin's boot launched him backward through the air… leaving him to the wolf that was Yamcha. Having crossed the water in the blink of an eye, the bandit drove his fist through the lizard's midsection and pushed his power through it, incinerating the poor, bestial man before he had the chance to comprehend his fate.

He lingered in position, the maelstrom raging around him, and exhaled.

All at once, the haze surrounding him dissipated and the cloak of light melted away to reveal the surface level burns that now littered his skin. They rested on his forearms and wrists, at the ends of his knuckles, and all along the edges of his face.

"You okay, bud?"

Krillin broke the silence, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, I… think I just figured something out."

"How high did you go?"

"Five, I think, for a few seconds anyway," Yamcha said, staring down at his hands.

He'd only been there for a few seconds, but he'd felt something on the edge of being in that moment, teetering on the edge of who he'd been before. He felt the power in it, but he also felt something else — the power to go further.

He glanced at his fists, then back up at Krillin, who was holding out the senzu pouch.

"That explains how you made such short work of 'em. Let's get you another senzu bean, though. The rest is up to those guys over there."

Krillin jerked his thumb in the direction of distant thunder, where two men of inexplicable caliber battled a demon without equal.

* * *

_A/N: Hey there, guys. I had a lot of fun with this chapter; it's the first one that hasn't, primarily, been rewriting. I wrote a lot of the last two chapters when I was still unsure of where I wanted to take things, which contributed to my inability to finish them before. When I came back to it after a break, I realized what I needed to do, and buckled down to do it. I hope this chapter reads a little less stiffly than the last two._

_As you've all certainly noticed, Goku and Shourai are having a bit of trouble with Cooler, but I hope I managed to put Goku's character on display throughout the struggle. That said, I think I've managed to make Cooler a more formidable enemy than he was in the movie. I didn't want him to be an easily defeated foe who Goku and company forgot in days. I wanted him to be an enemy with a little staying power, but picked the wrong fight entirely._

_For a change, though, I've got a question for you guys to linger on: how do you think Goku's fight against Cooler turned out in AHC's Future Timeline? Leave a review with your thoughts if you want. Or don't. Your life, and whatnot._

_As always, if you have questions, feel free to ask them via review. I'll answer what I see in the chapter after I see them. I've included a few here that I anticipated being on the minds of the readers, so feel free to check these out._

_Q: I noticed that chapter one looks a little bigger. What's up?  
__A: I wrote up a brief splash/landing for AHC so that it would be a little easier to track. It includes a list of arcs and a brief summary of each one, so that readers can easily identify where they left off and pick up where they want. Plus, if you don't like an arc and step away for a while, maybe you can pick up on the next one. I know a lot of readers also skip the first few chapters, which a lot of writers use to find their groove and writing style, too. Check it out at the end of Chapter 1._

_Q: How is it that Cooler is so strong in AHC?  
__A: In AHC, Cooler's been training a little to take down the guy that killed his brother. I wanted him to be methodical, with a little bit of mania sprinkled in for good measure. If I'm doing it right, you should understand why he's doing what he's doing by the end of the next chapter if you don't already get it._

_Q: What does Cooler mean when he says he's dutiful?  
__A: This ties into the last question. He's doing his duty and taking vengeance, not because he actually cares, but because his honor has been challenged by the death of his family. If the fight were a hopeless one, Cooler would have probably prepared more first. Unfortunately, he didn't know that Goku was capable of amplifying his power level… and neither did his minions._

_Q: If Cooler has his own arc, then are other villains like Broly, Android 13, and Bojack going to get their own arcs?_

_A: I don't think the Android B-Team is going to get their own arc. Broly may come into play way down the road, but I think he'll be a "special" chapter if anything — think the length of the last three chapters put together._

_Q: When will we get to see more of the future?  
__A: The next Future chapter is slated for the near future. ;)_

_Q: Will every chapter be this action heavy?  
__A: We'll have a "slice of life" heavy chapter coming pretty soon, including big appearances from Chi-Chi and Lil'han._

_Relevant Power Levels: (~Fluctuating or Approximate)  
__SSJ Shourai - 156,000,000~  
__SSJ Goku - 153,250,000~  
__Krillin - 183,750 (Kaio-Ken)  
__Yamcha - 210,000 (Kaio-Ken X2)  
__Yamcha - 525,000 (Kaio-Ken X5)  
_

_Salza - 185,000  
__Dore - 195,000  
__Neiz - 173,000  
__Final Form Cooler - 170,000,000 ~ 165,000,000 (Weakened)_


	12. Destroy All Tyrants!

Punches flew at supersonic speeds in the synapse between moments as two Super Saiyans drove a tyrant back. Cooler deflected blow after blow with his bracers as he struggled to find their rhythm, his arms moving at top speed in order to keep up with the breakneck pace that they'd established. He understood their plan; they were trying to wear him out so that they could restore their power advantage… but he wasn't going to make that easy for them. He was the ruler of an empire vast and unending.

They were but ash, waiting to scatter at his feet.

Shourai arced up through the air to soar over him while Son Goku plunged inward, his eyes alive with hope and his aura blazing. Cooler came skidding to a halt in the grass and pivoted at the last possible second, allowing Goku to cross into his guard. The Saiyan braced himself and bent, but Cooler's knee still slammed into his midsection hard enough to pop him up.

Shourai's shoulder slammed into Cooler's back a moment later, knocking the air out of the demon's lungs and giving Goku a moment of reprieve. The tyrant rolled off of the blow and surged towards Goku, who quickly shot to the left and let the demon fly by.

Two jets of golden light gave chase as Cooler shot into the clouds. The demon disappeared into a massive spread of white while his pursuers split off, dashing at full speed around the cloud in order to meet him on the other side.

Cooler made his exit on the other side just as Shourai finished his half of the arc. Son Goku was still coming around on the other side, unaccustomed to the speed of his son — confirming Cooler's suspicion. Though they were working together, their synergy was imperfect. They were so hyped up on adrenaline that they were losing track of the differences in their own strength.

He collided with Shourai in a flurry of lightning fast punches. Jabs raced back and forth until Shourai reeled back, leaving Cooler free to wrap his left hand around the Super Saiyan's windpipe and pull hard toward the ground.

The two fell fast toward the earth while Goku raced after them, his hands glowing with power. There was no way he was going to be able to catch up to them in time, not without…

His left hand flickered up to his forehead and he vanished, reappearing on the demon's right with his left boot already extended. It made sharp contact with Cooler's mask, sending a jolt of recoil down the Saiyan's leg as the demon released his grip on Shourai's throat.

Goku pressed his advantage while Shourai recovered, unleashing with a strong left straight. Cooler wove beneath it and returned fire with two jabs that stung his foe's chest and face, but Goku kept fighting. Lashing out with a harsh roundhouse, Goku brought his boot across the demon's face once again… and as he shot forward to land a more decisive blow, felt the lash of Cooler's tail against his cheek.

"Gah!"

Shourai shot in to replace his father without a moment's hesitation, taking Goku's place in the melee while he recovered.

The two fighters went wild in the skies and raced toward the East Capitol, trailed by shimmering tails of light.

A fierce left hook slammed into Shourai's jaw and knocked him back as they entered the city's air space, but he quickly returned the favor with a brutal boot to the demon's chest that launched him over a distant skyscraper. Beneath them, cars honked and heads turned, led by the tell tale sounds of thunder and the fires blazing in the sky.

Cooler put the air brakes on as Shourai closed the gap between them, his fist cocked back and his father following in his wake. A purple elbow slammed into the hybrid's head and sent him plummeting into the city below, but Goku continued his charge, slamming into Cooler's guard and picking another fight.

Faster, stronger, but less skilled, Cooler found no purchase against the galaxy's premier savior. Strike after strike sailed wide over the Saiyan's shoulder or went astray, victim to Goku's honed technique. Unlike King Cold, Cooler was only marginally stronger than him now — at least a tenth of his power had faded away, chipped by the pace of their sprawling battle.

Cooler brought his elbow down hard on Goku's head and Shourai came rolling over his father's back, ready to take his place. He led with his left arm, planting a palm on the demon's chest to drive him back through the air, a flickering trail of blue light following his right hand.

A rush of blue light swallowed Cooler whole and carved through the sky with a deafening roar; wind buffeted Shourai's chest and face, kicked off in the wake of the blast, while Goku raced alongside it. Glass from nearby buildings shattered as he passed, raining down on the streets below.

"Be careful," he called, "there are still people beneath us!"

The current died down as Shourai risked a glance downward. People were looking up from their cars, bewildered by the duel taking place overhead. Glass rained upon the sidewalks, shattering into tiny bits of invisible shrapnel. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of foreboding; he hadn't had such a large audience in a long time. He wasn't nervous, by any means, but — usually, the Androids had nobody to use against him. Cooler, on the other hand, had a city with over a hundred thousand people living in it.

The fact that his own power was an equally dangerous threat hadn't even occurred to him. Had his father not said something, he wouldn't have considered it.

Shourai hung there, his aura whipping around him, and considered how long it'd been since he'd actually done battle in a living city. By the time he glanced up, Cooler and his father were already entangled again, their bodies leaving streaks in the sky that wove like fire between skyscrapers.

It was clear that Goku was doing his best to weave in and out of the city. Bits of glass still broke beside him whenever he blocked a particularly nasty blow, but the battle was still going well.

A bladed forearm sliced into his cheek before he could cement that thought, leaving a thin line of blood that raced down the side of his face. Wincing, he struck back with a wild, backwards leaning uppercut that forced Cooler to shoot backward in order to dodge. Before Earth's mightiest hero could give chase, the demon vanished.

Goku glanced around while Cooler's speed mirage set in, his eyes tracking the most subtle of motions and the general feeling of the tyrant's energy. He could feel Cooler all around him, in the air, skipping over the glass windows of nearby buildings… and right behind him.

He spun hard and shot upward, burying his knee in the tyrant's chin.

Cooler reeled back, but recovered quickly; his hands wrapped themselves around Goku's wrists and he flipped fast, catapulting the unsuspecting Saiyan at the city below.

Goku caught himself inches from the top of a blue convertible. Fins ran down the tail and lined the hood, which sparkled in the autumn sun. Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he couldn't help but feel a spiritual sense of relief. King Kai, even if it wasn't his car, would've been so disappointed to see a vehicle like that ruined.

"Man, that was close—"

Cooler's foot came down on his gut and cut him off, planting the Saiyan firmly inside of the car's guts. The leather interior gave way to metal and broken glass beneath the groaning Saiyan's bulk, only to be flicked into the air by Cooler's monstrously long tail. Goku struggled to free himself, clambering out of the car's mangled interior and onto the car's hood, but a secondary flick of Cooler's tail launched the convertible straight into the office across the street.

Citizens fled left and right while Goku scrambled to his feet. He could feel his foe's eyes on him, latched onto the blood on his cheek and the blazing aura that still clung to him. He had to get out of there, before Cooler started taking potshots.

"Not so fast, monkey."

As if on cue, sizzling rays of purple light cut into the crowd. Goku gasped as one of them plowed through a suited man's chest on its way to him, aware that even more citizens were still rushing out behind him to escape. He couldn't dodge…

His hand went flush with gold as he smacked Cooler's first beam into the tiled floor and went to work at redirecting the others toward the ceiling, doing his best to aim for the areas where he couldn't feel any life. Slowly, arduously, he battled his way forward as the crowd thinned out and Cooler's interest in their game waned. Grunting, he sent the last beam into the ceiling and dashed forward, only for Cooler to cut him off.

The demon's knee slammed into his gut and all of the air flew out of his lungs. Spittle flew from his lips as he staggered backward, eyes wide. Cooler's left hand swept through the air and made contact with his cheek, launching him through the bank's eastern wall and into the open street.

Bewildered onlookers watched as Goku pushed himself up off the pavement and took to the sky, followed by a glittering streak of murderous violet.

It was clear to him now.

Cooler been leading them to the city all along. He hadn't been driven back — he'd been retreating to a new battlefield.

Goku rolled to the left as the demon surged past him, emerging into the open sky above. A lance of hazy light massed in his left hand, and Goku risked a glance at the city below. From the sheer feel of it, he could tell that Cooler intended to take him — or the entire block — out with the blastwave.

Energy rushed to his fingertips just as Shourai flickered into existence on the demon's left side. Cooler pivoted, as if to throw the spear at point blank range, but the future fighter was already on him, fists flying. Punch after punch beat Cooler backward until the spear dissipated, but he wasn't shocked enough to forget about retaliation. In a blur, he shivered forward, smashing his helmeted skull into Shourai's forehead.

"Ah!"

The hybrid wobbled as Goku rushed in to take his place. Shoulder lowered, he rammed into Cooler's midsection so hard that he hurtled through a distant cloud.

"You okay?!"

"I should be asking you that," Shourai muttered, rubbing his head. Admittedly, the middle of a battle probably wasn't the best place to talk about things. "Sorry."

"It's fine, son. I understand. I don't fight in places like this a lot either."

"Yeah, but you're still doing it."

The hair on the back of Goku's neck rose as he felt something coming. The feeling of rising static massaged his skin, burning off some of the hair on his arms and forcing rubble from the city below to levitate. He glanced down toward the street, where cars slowly lifted and bodies with them, before looking back to the sky.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know, it might be — where's Cooler?"

It came all at once.

A massive tide of purple crushed the world whole around them; it burned through the fabric of their clothes and eviscerated the street below, only to crush its remains and scatter the ash. Shourai screamed as the pain struck him and the heat overtook all else. Buildings crumbled and slid toward the center of the once well paved road, and like stringless puppets, collapsed into ruin. The fifteenth floor of the bank his father'd been knocked out of pulled him to the earth, laying him to bed in a cradle of destruction and smoke.

* * *

Goku popped out of the top of the billowing smoke cloud, wreathed in gold and pure fury. Beneath him, the dead rested and the living screamed, their lives forever changed. Above him, Cooler lorded over the wreckage, his eyes narrowed and his breathing slow. He could still feel Shourai's ki, fading, somewhere in the wreckage… but he had to trust in his son's ability to survive, now.

For him, at least, the battle was still on.

His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white. His gi was in tatters, hanging to his body by the left shoulder, and the undershirt that usually kept him anchored was now burned through, leaving only blackened frays to line the orange over it.

"Cooler!"

He struck Cooler across the jaw, only to be countered by a swift slicing uppercut a fraction of a second later. He took no time to reel, turning the excess momentum from Cooler's blow into a harsh spin-kick that lashed the demon's cheek and splattered the inside of his mask with spittle and blood. Before the demon could respond, Goku pushed forward, flicking his leg in the other direction and mashing his boot against the bone-white crown atop Cooler's head to send him into a high speed spin.

_Wham! Wham! Wham!_

Goku's left fist plunged deep into Cooler's gut and found itself followed up with a rapid one-two. The demon retched in the air and lurched forward, hoping to take the Saiyan by the shoulders and pull him to the ground, but Goku was already circling around behind him.

Ki welled up in the Super Saiyan's hands as he dug into Cooler's back with a series of powerful, technical punches that left indentations in the skin. Thunder broke with every blow, the sound barrier shattered by the impact of every hit.

Cooler turned in an instant, his fist already flying — but Goku caught it inches before it could make impact with his left cheek. Storms raged in his eyes, burning all that met them and all that would oppose them.

A shiver of fear snaked its way down Cooler's spine, forcing him to float back through the air, Goku's grip on him already gone. Something burned inside of him, survival instinct, confusion — it burned through it all, desperate for escape. Was this the feeling his father felt, moments before evisceration?

He hadn't believed the footage recovered from the wreckage of his father's ship, at first. It had all seemed to surreal, too unbelievable… but now, in the face of such a demon, he understood how his kin met their end.

And then, in an instant, a childish rage replaced all of his fear.

He surged forward, burying his fist deep in the Saiyan's gut and lifting him high overhead — only to plummet into the rubble a moment later, burying the Saiyan's smug face into a pile of broken concrete and distorted metal. He pushed hard and drove onward, carrying Son Goku through the wreckage until they emerged once again from the bustling cloud of smoke that had consumed them in their descent. With a burst of brilliantly shining ki, he sent Goku flying over the pavement and into another pile of rubble, but the persistent Saiyan bolted upward out of it mere seconds later.

He ripped the remains of the orange gi from his shoulders and locked eyes with Cooler, who lorded over a fallen skyscraper, his blood red eyes filled with danger.

"Pitiful creature," he said, tail smacking the wreckage and launching shards of glass into the air. They lingered over his shoulders, held up by sheer willpower and telekinetics that no monkey could hope to understand.

Son Goku did not look impressed. Unwavering, he took his perch at the base of Cooler's new earthen empire.

"You're the one who's pitiful. Your father and brother were despicable — but you? You're just pitiful," Goku began, spitting blood onto the dirt. Glassy shrapnel was poking into his back, which now ran red with blood. His legs wobbled beneath him, shaking uncontrollably. He could feel the adrenaline leaving his system. The rage he'd felt before was giving way to an icy clarity. "I don't think they knew when to give up either."

"You still don't understand," Cooler said. He raised a hand, and the rubble slowly began to climb upward, lifted by his will. It massed around them, glass and concrete all, until forged into a gargantuan dome. Darkness fell over the battlefield, but it failed to extinguish the flames of power burning around them. "I am not my brother, monkey."

"I am not a failure — you could not begin to fathom the number of your kind I've killed. Not Saiyans, but the men like you, who think themselves brave."

"The people here today weren't brave," Goku shot back. "They were bystanders, victims of your crusade for revenge."

"Don't act so high and mighty. You won't remember them either, monkey. Not by the time I leave this planet and reduce it to ash, alongside you and your dead friends."

The rubble collapsed inward as Cooler twisted his fist, flung in at Goku as if he were a magnet. Goku grunted and crouched down, unleashing a torrent of blinding light that burned through it all before it could reach him — only to launch toward Cooler, followed by a trail of glowing, molten fury.

* * *

Shourai's eyes fluttered open as the world around him shook. Dirt trickled onto his back when he pushed himself up, shaken free by the rumble of nearby thunder. He couldn't — there was nothing. He couldn't see the sky and the power inside of him felt dim, as if Cooler's strike cleansed him like it had the street. Shaking, he sank back onto his knees and took a moment to examine his new prison.

Chunks of rock and melted steel surrounded him on all sides, shaking from the impact of blows outside. He could feel his father's energy surging up and down with every moment that passed, struggling to match Cooler's as the battle continued.

In order to get out, he was going to need to push through the debris and climb out onto the remains of the street.

Slowly, he went to work.

Burns littered his arms and cuts that were once open sizzled from recent cauterization, sealed by the heat of Cooler's power. His body quaked as he worked to clear the wreckage, laboriously tossing sections of stone and steel into the sky until he broke free and stepped into the open air.

Overhead, the sky ran black, and for a moment, he was ten again.

He couldn't see his friends anymore. The dust had yet to settle, but he still wandered the streets, knees weak and body heavy. The breaths came hard and haggard, as if pulled by clumsy hands from his lungs. He could still hear someone — Vegeta, maybe — fighting. Mister Piccolo was already gone, dead or still fighting, he didn't know.

He jumped over an exposed sewer line and stumbled down the street toward the sounds of crashing. He could feel the energy now, slowly returning to him, ebbing out from his pores and wrapping itself around him like a cloak. His dead friends passed through him like wind through a wind chime as their last words came to him in unison, jumbled beyond repair.

_"Keep fighting, kid."_

_"See ya, Gohan."_

_"I'll hold them off, you…"_

_"All together!"_

Vegeta's came last, as Shourai collapsed to a knee, his legs too tired to carry him any further. They were so quiet, almost like a whisper, as if he were afraid the dead might hear him over the sounds of battle and strip him of his pride.

_"They won't. Not anymore."_

And then all at once, in a furious roar—

_"Not today!"_

Shourai's fists clenched and the world trembled at his feet while the power of his rage escaped and overcame the pain. It grew and grew, manifesting unto the world as a storm of golden light that chopped through the rubble and left deep scars in what was left of the concrete as he blasted off in pursuit of his father.

* * *

Goku darted to the left as Cooler circled around to his right, bringing a forearm to bear in order to block a would-be deathblow. He could feel energy leaving him in droves, fleeing his body with every breath and saturating the air around them. Wind buffeted his face and chest, forcing one of his eyes shut while the aftermath of their collision settled.

The two fighters disappeared in an instant, their bodies suddenly skyward, and then they were gone again.

They raced and danced over the battlefield, shredding concrete and scattering glass into the air. Cooler's rage kept him afloat while Goku's waned and the demon once again gained the upper hand. Though a majority of his energy was slowly beginning to slip away, he could feel it happening to the Saiyan too. Fatigue was a powerful foe; it was the jingling of shackles being tied to a man's feet, hiding inside of the bubbly last breath of a savior drowning.

A golden comet broke through the building on their left and entered the fray with a feral scream, taking the demon by the hips and ramming him hard into the concrete. Cooler gasped as he bounced, only to shoot backward over the shattered ground, his eyes racing to catch onto what'd come for him — he knew Son Goku's location, it couldn't have been…

Shourai buzzed by overhead, his hands alive with light. Cooler watched him go by and groaned when Goku's boot collided with his jaw, stumbling him to a knee.

He felt the blast wave coming before he saw it, but he had time only to turn before the head of a titanic blast collided with his guard. It exploded upon impact and shrouded him in smoke, fire, and pain. Streamers of ki flickered through the cloud as it spread and dispersed, revealing a pair of furious angels on the other side. Golden light clung to their bodies like cloaks, snapped in the breeze, and offered their beacons to the heavens.

Cooler's feet left the ground one at a time as he ascended into the sky, his fingertips covered by lancets of purple electricity, which bit at the oxygen around him and left pocket vacancies that filled with subtle cracks. Rage still bubbled inside of him, tinged with fear and hate and a contempt that he couldn't name.

"You filthy urchins," he grumbled, raising his right hand over his head. A single finger rose from it, triumphant. Below, Shourai and Son Goku watched, together, as a massive sphere of magma exploded into being from the end of Cooler's finger. It sizzled and hissed while bolts of stray energy arced roamed over its surface, only growing in intensity as the blast blotted out the sun and cast a malignant shadow over the battlefield.

"If you only knew what you'd done," Cooler said. "The men I've killed, the empires I've toppled — it all amounts to one doctrine: I live, and you die. That's all it boils down to, in the end. Father never could tell me otherwise. For all he spoke of honor, all the days he crowed on about and all the glory he hounded, it all boils down to blood!"

"Blood on the sand, in the stars, the ash — your blood, or mine!"

He threw the blast earthward, allowing doom to descend upon Earth's mightiest defenders, the men that killed his brother and father.

On the ground, Son Goku crouched and brought his hands to bear at his hips. Rays of blue light, like sunshine, glittered in the smog and condensed into a glowing sphere between his wrists. The golden aura surrounding him finally faded, extinguished by the energy now growing at his waist.

"Kaaaa…. Me…"

The sphere in his hands doubled in size while Cooler's blast fell toward them. His eyes flickered toward his son, whose power still raged on the world at their feet.

"Haaa me…"

With a sickening crack, all of Son Goku's energy went into the sphere, which swallowed his wrists and jettisoned electricity up his arms. He could feel Cooler's power bearing down on him from above, threatening to consume it all — to tear him away from those he loved.

In a moment, he saw Chi-Chi. He saw Gohan, Shourai, and Krillin. He saw Yamcha training on the lake, backlit by a trillion faces he'd never seen. Their eyes carved into him and shimmered in the surface of his most trusted technique.

He wondered, for just a moment, what would've happened if he slipped.

"Ha!"

The jaws of a ravenous wolf tore free of his hands as he shoved forward, pushing the full extent of his power into Cooler's final, dastardly ploy. A streak of immutable cobalt collided with the surface of a supernova as it fell to earth, slowing its descent. Ropes of blue spread outward from the impact site, wrapping themselves around the sphere's edges and slowly burning into the surface.

Sweat fell from Goku's forehead in earnest as he pushed his limits, waiting for them to give way and the world to be saved and the suffering of innumerable souls to end.

A sickening crack rang through the air as his ankles broke through the last remaining slab of concrete. Cooler's blast continued its descent, backed by the cackling of a maniacal tyrant. He could feel the burdens of the dead on his shoulders, filling his resolve — those who Cooler had killed, those he had yet to kill — he couldn't let them down!

With a scream, he shoved it all into the blast, setting fire to the fuel left in his tank and putting everything on the line. The agony was overwhelming; his muscles screamed in defiance and power, like magma, burned through the blood in his veins. His left eye slowly shut, sealed by sweat and blood and sheer resolve.

Beside him, Shourai watched as his father struggled with a behemoth. This was a sight he'd seen many times as a child. Impossible odds, defied by the one man who chose never to acknowledge him. There was only one difference… he wasn't a helpless little boy anymore.

He sank to a crouch beside his father, whose Kamehameha stalled Cooler's advance.

Then, like a song from a far away land, a familiar chant broke free of his lips: one he'd heard many times, one he'd practiced since childhood, one he'd never forget.

"Kaa mee… haaa mee…"

Blue sparks gathered at his fingertips and spread like fire up his wrists, only to congeal with a _thwish_ as Shourai's energy spiked.

"Ha!"

He shoved forward and the blast filled itself in, expanding to about half the size of his father's before colliding with Cooler's supernova. Behind it, the sound of cackling stopped, replaced by a bloodcurdling scream as the massive blast slowly rose back into the sky. Shourai grunted as he felt resistance mounting, but Cooler's blast couldn't be stopped anymore.

It climbed toward the heavens, Cooler on its back, and vanished into the sky at the head of two gargantuan waves of cobalt power. Still, the two Super Saiyans held on, pushing the blast as far as possible until it vanished into the stars.

With a twinkle, Cooler's empire faded.

Shourai fell to his knees seconds later, panting and clutching at his chest. Pain blossomed out from his core and spread through his body like butter over broken toast. Goku, beside him, fell back onto his butt and gazed up onto the sky.

"All of those… people… Dad, I'm so— I'm so sorry," Shourai panted. "If I could've just… followed you deeper into the city, we might've… beaten him faster… this is all… my fault. Those people are all dead."

Goku considered his son's words for a moment, his eyes on the bits of blue sky that persisted through the smoggy cloud of black hanging over what remained of the East Capitol. It was true that, at the least, several thousand people were now dead. Wreckage reigned over all, and for all he knew, would continue to for a little while.

There was something, though, that Shourai was forgetting. He couldn't blame him, really — even he'd forgotten in the midst of battle. It hadn't even occurred to him until he had a moment to catch his breath. Inhaling sharply, Goku reminded his son of a key fact.

"Son, we can wish them back," he said, tentatively pulling himself up to his knees. "I know you might not have them in the future, but we've got them now."

"The… dragonballs?"

"Uh-huh. We can use the radar and gather them all up. I think Elder Moori might have the Namekian ones, but I don't know if he'd let us use those, especially since King Kai hasn't found a new planet for the Nameks yet…"

"New planet…?"

Goku glanced over to Shourai, who looked perplexed. Beat up, but perplexed. A faint glimmer of hope sparkled in his eyes, beneath the roughage.

"Well, yeah. King Kai was supposed to find them a new planet. At least, at some point. I think that was the plan, anyway. Did we not do that in your timeline?"

"No," Shourai immediately replied. "I'd have known about that. I mean, I think. I never really thought about it, but I vaguely remember saying goodbye to Dende. Would you have told me in any significant way?"

Goku rubbed his chin a moment, thinking.

"Probably not," he decided.

"And you probably didn't get the chance, because of the heart virus."

"I mean, probably. I haven't gotten the heart virus yet, so I really dunno."

"Yeah," Shourai said, leaning back onto the rubble. "What you're saying is, though, I might be able to go to New Namek in my timeline. Maybe fix things. Not all at once, but a little."

Goku blinked.

"Well, actually, yeah… but I was talking more like… right now. We can get some rest and then go gather the balls. If King Kai can find that planet, we can get them there and maybe they'll let us use their balls, like they did when I was fighting Frieza. Then, we can use ours to wish the people back, theirs to make 'em forget they got blown up and to fix the city."

"What would the third wish be for?"

"Dunno," Goku replied, thumbing the bridge of his nose. "We'll figure something out."

Silence overtook them for a moment as the gravity of the situation settled in. They were going to have to gather the dragonballs. That meant time off from training, which meant less time to prepare for the androids, which meant… consequences. Abstract consequences, which Shourai couldn't yet understand. Cooler had already come early. What else could happen?

"Let's wish for an all you can eat buffet," Goku decided, rising to his feet.

"Or a crystal ball," Shourai mumbled. "To tell the future with."

"Do you think we're ever gonna see Cooler's kind again?" He asked, voice tinged with a little bit of sorrow. "None ever came to my earth after you beat him in my timeline."

"Probably not then, bud. If we do, he'd have to be strong."

"Real strong. Tough, too. Durable — capable of living in space, or underground, or something."

"They already can. Didn't I ever tell you how Frieza got back to Earth?"

"No, we just assumed he had our coordinates."

"Oh, well — he survived Namek exploding, then his dad picked him up. He was all cut into pieces though. I think he was in two halves when I saw him last."

"Geez."

Shourai clambered to his feet after his father, stretching.

"I hope we don't run into someone that tough down the line," he said. "At least if I could cut the Androids in half, I'm pretty sure I'd win."

"Oh, they can't stitch themselves together or regenerate or anything?"

"Nah, not as far as I know."

The two men took to the sky, their conversation continuing as they blasted off into the distance. On the other end of the city, beneath the rubble, a large, shelled beetle shook off chunks of stone and slowly clambered out into the sunlight. Strokes of green lined its shell, intermingled with black and purple dots that spanned its length, all leading to a crowned head. On its rear end, a stinger poked out from beneath its carapace, gleaming in the sunlight.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys. Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, which brings an end to Cooler's arc. We won't be seeing him again… for a while._

_I used a lot of this chapter to set up the things to come. I hope you like them, and the multiple hooks that lead to them. We'll be seeing a lot of space adventures, slice of life, and future backstory in the next few chapters, which will lead into the next arc… and the first special, coming toward the end of May, if I've got my time tables right._

_Q: Does Goku's heart virus make an appearance in this story?  
__A: In a way, yeah. I've come up with an interesting, hopefully original, explanation for it._

_Q: This was supposed to be about Gohan, but turned into a story about Shourai the OC. What gives?  
__A: Hopefully, that's not the case. If it is, I'm doing something wrong. I'm trying to write the characters I see in my head; if they're not to your liking, my bad. That said, hopefully, this problem will feel less like a problem as Shourai returns home and interacts more with his family._

_Q: Will there be pairings?  
__A: There'll be a few. Goku/Chi-Chi stuff is coming up soon — I haven't gotten to put a good spotlight on Chi-Chi yet, and I really want to highlight why the Son Family works, despite Goku vanishing a lot and Chi-Chi wanting her son to be a scholar. Vegeta and Bulma, of course. Gohan and… well, you know, spoilers. Probably best to avoid those._

_Q: So Goku &amp; Shourai essentially not annihilating Cooler because he came a year early?  
__A: About right. Cooler comes a fair bit earlier in this timeline, where Goku hadn't had the benefit of training with Piccolo and Vegeta, or mastering the Super Saiyan transformation. The Zenkai that he and Shourai are about to get will put them up a fair bit on the competition, and put (at least Shourai) above Cooler's current level of power. Without any zenkai boosts, and given a year to train, Goku could probably have eclipsed that power in the future timeline, due to having Vegeta as a training partner. Remember, in my timeline, Vegeta acquires Super Saiyan before Goku dies in the future._

_Q: What's Vegeta up to?  
__A: He's currently in space, decimating an Empire. You'll get to read about it in the Special chapter, coming at the end of May. I know it's a long wait, but I hope it's worth it. If I release faster than expected, it may be coming in the first week of May, though I expect to miss a release deadline during Finals week at my college._


	13. For All To See

The line from past to future was the most blurred at Mount Paozu. There, away from the bustling cityscapes and the unburnt horizon, the winter sky hung over the mountain like a blanket over a boy's knees. To Shourai, it felt surreal. He hadn't been home in years before his return to the past. The threat of bringing the Androids to such sacred ground was not one that he could stomach. Paozu was his home, the home of his father before him, and the home of his namesake. He'd taken a vow never to return until he'd defeated the Androids and cleared the world of all darkness.

He considered that vow while surveying the view from one of Paozu's many peaks. Snow hadn't yet begun to fall, but the typically green mountain grasses were already fading away into dying mounds of gray and brown as winter set in. Birds stretched their wings in the distance and flew off into the horizon, guided by instinct to flee the cold.

Dawn rolled slow across the valley below, gracing the Son household with its gentle glow. Shourai watched as puffs of smoke puttered up from the chimney, a sign that his father was up for the morning. Little Gohan was likely still asleep, enjoying one of the many benefits of childhood. Chi-Chi drove him hard, but she knew the value of a good night's sleep on a young boy's learning. At least, that was what Shourai remembered being lectured on; he could still remember spending late nights out with his dad, fishing and chitchatting about the weekend trips to come.

Shourai liked to think himself a good tutor. He knew enough material to cover the next three years, or longer if he wanted, and he already understood the best way to teach himself all of the concepts. Then again, things like math, geometry, and history always came easy to him. He was, and still was, a natural. Little Gohan was no different, and the hunger with which he devoured his subjects was refreshing. He was always eager to ask questions — either of the material, or of him, and he wasn't afraid to break boundaries other people would've skirted around.

Gohan was a little too smart for a seven year old, though.

Every day he had more questions about who Shourai was, about the future and the threats to come. It was difficult to sate the boy's curiosity without telling him everything.

A cold wind blew in from the west and washed away what remained of the morning fog, leaving Shourai alone to his thoughts and the view. Despite the similarities it bore to his home, there was still something foreign in it. He knew every stone and every step, every peak and the names of all of the local dinosaurs. He even remembered Icarus, who was likely roaming off in the forests to the south or hunting out by the sea.

It only took him a few minutes to walk the path back to the Son household in the East District.

He took care to bow to his great-grandfather's shrine before making his way quietly through the door and creeping up to the guest room. The clothes he'd laid out the night before were still on his bedside table, carefully folded beside the lamp and alarm clock. Unlike the dogi he'd been wearing during the battle with Cooler, the one on the table was the one he'd come to the past with, emblazoned with his own name across the back.

He slung the clothes over his shoulder and went out to the living room, where his father was stoking a lightly burning fireplace. The scent of ash and burning hickory warmed him as he took a seat on the chair beside Goku's.

"Hey there," Goku said, poking at the coals with a long rod. He probably could've used his hands to do it, but some things were better done the right way. "You're up early."

"Yeah," Shourai replied.

"Habit?"

"Yeah."

"I understand. Been there, bud. Back when I was training to fight Piccolo, when he used to be a bad guy, I'd wake up before dawn and train until midnight."

"What was that like?"

"Training for the fight?"

"Yeah."

Goku leaned back in his chair, laying the fire poker over his lap. The typically jovial face Shourai'd grown up with gave way to one more thoughtful, though not altogether dark. He'd always been told stories about his dad's fight against Piccolo, but they'd always been bedtime stories. He heard about the good times, the victories, and the ever important moral: that good would always triumph over evil.

"It wasn't that bad," Goku finally decided.

"I spent three years doing it. You kinda fall into a routine after that long. Waking up, working hard, taking a few minutes to yourself, and then sleeping until you start over."

"Was it hard?"

"The training itself?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, nah. It was at the time, but when you do it for so long, it becomes a part of you. You always have a purpose. It's kinda nice. The hard part was not seeing my friends. Kami revived Shenron and I knew my friends would bring Krillin back, but I didn't get to see him at all while I was training. I wasn't allowed to see any of them."

Shourai crossed his arms over his knees and watched the fire. Solitude was a feeling he knew well; if anything, it was the feeling he understood best. Up until Bulma let Trunks start training with him, he'd been alone. Bulma was there, in a way, but she couldn't relate. She was fighting a different fight and a different kind of pain. His mom was the same way.

He could only imagine the pain he'd put his mom through — was still putting her through. If time was still passing, the news reports about him probably weren't coming anymore. Then again, in theory, it was possible for him to return to the exact point he'd left at. The thought that time was still passing didn't leave his head, and he couldn't help but to hear Bulma's insistence once again rear its head.

She'd been so insistent on sending _him_ back. So insistent that time would preserve itself and things would change and that their timeline wouldn't exist anymore — and she'd been wrong. He was still there. He had no new memories of his childhood, so he either failed and forgot, or more likely, he was in an entirely new timeline.

Had she been so eager to send him away because she thought it would really solve their problems? Or was she just hoping she didn't have to see him die too?

Either way, they still had the back up plan. Bring Dad to the future once he was strong enough to help fight the cyborgs. With any luck, he could get Vegeta up to snuff too, not that he knew where the Prince was. As far as he could tell, Vegeta was somewhere in space, doing… whatever it was he did during that time. Nobody really knew.

"Sometimes," Goku started, cutting Shourai away from his thoughts. "I think about what would've happened if I hadn't gotten to Namek in time. Or shown up to stop Vegeta and— Nappa?"

He paused a second, turning to Shourai.

"Lately, more about what if I hadn't been there to fight Cooler and his men."

It was clear that he wasn't blaming Shourai for Cooler's arrival… but there was something else there. Curiosity, maybe. A little bit of uncertainty.

"Did you know Cooler was coming?"

"No, he wasn't supposed to come for another year," Shourai muttered.

"Mm. I'd have been strong enough to beat him alone in a year?"

"You will be strong enough to beat him alone in a year. Handily. He tried to play with his food, just like his brother did. He took a killshot on me and you ended up jumping in the way. Got wounded."

"And I still won?"

"Well, we hid out for a day or two. Got you some senzu beans. I think we were on a camping trip with Krillin, but it's hard to remember what we were doing before Cooler came. When you healed up, you tore Cooler apart. Absolutely manhandled him after going Super Saiyan. He didn't stand a chance. It was probably a little more than the power difference he had on you at the start of the fight, but in the other direction."

Goku whistled and nodded, smiling a little. The idea that he might get even stronger than that was an enticing one. New heights were exciting, no matter how scary the climb got. He wondered if Shourai felt the same way, but decided against asking. They were two different men, despite the similarities they shared.

"How strong are those Androids you've been telling me about?"

"Strong enough to kill me," Shourai whispered. "Both of them are strong enough to beat me. I can maybe beat the girl, if I caught her alone and on a good day, but I think she'd still kill me if I slipped up. The girl is Eighteen."

"And the guy, the other one?"

"Seventeen. He'd probably just beat me outright. I think he's made a little tougher than his sister."

"Wait, what? The earlier robot's stronger than the later robot?"

"Yeah. The extra power makes him a little cockier than she is. The reason I _couldn't_ just try to fight Eighteen alone is because she'd never let me. She's cautious. He's not. He'd challenge me just to show me up. That's how he killed Vegeta."

"By challenging him one on one?"

"Yeah. Offered to go 'mano-a-mano.' Something like that. I stalled Eighteen while they fought, just to make sure he wouldn't go back on his word."

Shourai looked over to his father, eyes narrowed. Inside of them, something dark and angry burned.

"He didn't win. Almost did, but he didn't. I'll never forget what he said to me, right before the end. The way he looked at me with eyes softer than I'd ever seen — Eighteen put me on the ground and joined up with her brother, and I managed to catch up to them a moment later. He was furious, but quiet. Like a storm."

"What'd he say when you caught up to him?"

"He told me to run. That Trunks and Bulma were gonna need someone to watch them, in case the fighting spilled over to the city."

Shourai glanced back to the fire and exhaled.

"I told him that they were gonna come after me. It was okay if they won this one. We'd win the next one, or the one after that. I just wanted him to come with me and he argued with me, of course. Said his pride was what mattered. He said he could beat them, he could feel it in his bones."

"Then what?"

"I said they were going to kill him if he didn't hurry up and follow me out. They were giving us the chance to run — I think they knew he wouldn't take it. I said they'd win, like they always did. It was the closest I'd ever been to giving up. If Vegeta couldn't beat 'em, what chance did I have, y'know?"

Goku didn't say anything, but Shourai felt the concern in him without the need for words. Son Goku was a lot of things, but a quitter wasn't one of them. That knowledge was a lot of what kept him going, during darker days. That his dad wouldn't have quit.

"He said, 'not today.' Then he pushed me away and I never saw him again. Just the flashes of lightning in the sky while I took Bulma and Trunks back to the city. We didn't even expect to see them there, in Peppertown. I think he didn't wanna lose in front of them. Couldn't bear it, maybe. Wanted to end the nightmare, so that Trunks could wake up in a world without fear."

"It's hard to imagine Vegeta changing that much," Goku began. "Around his family, I mean. That sounds like something he'd do, though. It must've been hard on him. Pride's… well, it's everything to him. I never cared much about the whole 'saiyan pride' thing myself. To me, trying is what's important. You don't win one time, you try to win the next time."

"Yeah, I know. It was hard to give up, knowing that you wouldn't have. So I didn't. Except, now, it feels almost like I did."

Silence set over them for a second while Goku considered his son's words. To him, Shourai hadn't given up. He'd just taken a different road forward. Some problems couldn't be overcome with brute force. A person could only get so far by bashing their head against the wall. He understood that, for as little as he practiced it.

It was hard to imagine the pain his son had gone through, the tribulations of a life without his father and the deaths of his friends. He wished he could have been there. If not to stop the Androids, to help his son cope with being unable to.

"Bulma always said you were a light in the dark, no matter what. That whenever you were around, she could rest easy," Shourai continued. "I filled that gap for a while. Now, all she has is Trunks."

"How strong do we need to be to beat them?"

"I'm not sure, but we should be able to beat them by the time they come in this timeline. Bulma was working on a way to measure strength, though. She said she'd have it ready soon, so that she could see how strong I needed to be to win."

Goku smiled and patted his son on the shoulder as he rose to his feet. Shourai stood up after him, face still dark.

"Well, we'll get there, son. I know it's gonna be hard… but all nightmares end, someday. Something I've learned in life is that you find the most hope when all of it seems lost."

"I think I'm gonna tell Mom. About everything. Being from the future. Not really being a tutor."

"Well, to be honest, I think she knows the second part already. You're smart and I'm sure Gohan is learning and everything, but not many tutors know how to fight, or use ki."

"Fair point, I guess," Shourai muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Plus, I think she tried to carry one of the undershirts from your laundry basket to the river, while you were gone. You know those things weigh a ton, right? Bulma was nice enough to reinforce the house and the furniture, but your mom still can't lift that much."

Shourai's face flushed at the thought of his mother trying to carry his weighted gi to the river down the way. Though she was strong, she wasn't _that_ strong. He'd been training with weight like that since he'd turned ten… and it'd been hard for him, back then. It was ten tons in all; five in the gi, two in each boot, and half a ton on each wristband.

He could only imagine the look on her face when she realized that she'd been lied to, trying to pick those clothes up. He'd been pretty good about doing all of his own laundry, but he hadn't thought to bring any of the dirty clothes with him for the trip. Plus, he was pretty sure he'd helped fly her home after the shopping trip they'd taken a few weeks ago.

How much had he not bothered to question about her knowledge?

"Do you think she's gonna be mad?"

"Not when you tell her," Goku said, waving a hand over his chest dismissively. "You're still Gohan, even if you're calling yourself something else. I'd be more shocked if she hasn't pieced it together already. She was asking me about you after we came back all banged up and you had that hole in your shoulder."

"I knew I should've just taken one of those beans from Krillin," Shourai replied. "I don't know why I didn't."

"You probably knew he needed them for his training with Yamcha and the others. Unlike us, they don't recover as fast… and since we're still waiting on another batch of beans to grow, they're gonna need all the help they can get."

"It feels like I'm just making oversight after oversight. Like I'm changing too much. Cooler's come early, Cold transforming — who knows what else might happen? What if Gero lets the Androids loose early because I came? Or if he makes another one?"

"Then we'll handle those problems together. You can try to connect the dots all you want to see what's going to happen, but every time you stop to do it, you're not moving forward. You've gotta trust that they'll line up the right way, even if things start going off track."

* * *

It took a few hours for the rest of the house to wake up, giving Shourai enough time to enjoy a warm bath and an hour of training during his wait. He still felt sore from the battle against Cooler and his men. The hole in his shoulder was sealed and bandaged over, but unlike the hole he'd healed with a senzu bean after his fight with Cold, it still ached. Thankfully though, nothing major had been hit, and he still had a solid range of motion with the arm.

The strength he was used to was now gone, but it would come back over time. Saiyan bodies, apparently even for half saiyans, were strong ones; the permanent wound cavity left by the beam would be the biggest of his worries, but the muscles it shredded would return stronger than before. For a human, such a wound would've done exactly the opposite. He couldn't imagine Yamcha or Krillin getting the same type of injury… without a senzu bean, it would've ruined them.

He was still massaging the wound under his bandages when Chi-Chi and Gohan (the younger) walked into the kitchen, their eyes still heavy. Rays of sunlight filtered in through the window and illuminated the table, which hadn't yet been set. They'd be having breakfast after Dad's turn in the bath ended, which meant preparation would have to be done by the time he got out.

Thankfully, they had a while. His father usually used his relaxation time to meditate and ready himself for the day ahead, one of the few luxuries he afforded himself. Son Goku didn't own a car, know how to drive, or even use an alarm clock, but he was dedicated to his routine without them. He could fly into the city for things he needed and on most days didn't need a concrete time table: such was the primary benefit of peacetime.

He watched his mother and past-self prepare breakfast in silence, his eyes boring holes in the kitchen table. He wasn't sure how to approach the subject. With Dad, it'd been easy. Dad understood how wild things could be and he hadn't questioned once the authenticity of his son's statement. For his mother, he could only hope that she'd believe him. That she wouldn't throw him out of the house. He didn't know what his past-self might think, but he couldn't imagine it would be good.

Honestly, burdening a child with the knowledge of a dark future felt wrong, in a way. As if he shouldn't have to know what might come, and be spared the danger of it all… but he had to know. He had a right to know, more importantly. He'd be out there fighting too, just as he had been the first time. Still, maybe if Shourai said the right things, he wouldn't leave his mother alone this time.

Beyond all else, the biggest fear over his shoulders was that of another potential failure. He couldn't leave his mother to her worries again, alone, without her friends or even her family. He felt guilty enough doing it in the future, and now that he looked back on it, he felt foolish.

His knuckles turned white from gripping at the orange fabric of his pants.

Gohan and his mother made idle chitchat while Shourai watched them prepare breakfast, talking about the storm that passed two nights prior and the wildlife's reaction to it. They laughed about the way the deer had taken off, and about the large bear that they'd seen sloshing through the mud on their way to the river the day before. He didn't remember the conversation at all from his childhood.

By the time his father walked in, most of the fear in him had passed. He didn't know how his family would react, but he couldn't neglect telling them for even one more day. They deserved to know the truth about the stranger in their home.

Goku sat beside him at the breakfast table, leaving Gohan to take the seat across from him while his mother laid out a massive meal. Steam from fresh cooked eggs, mouthwatering maple sausage, and almost-but-not-quite-burnt bacon drifted up from the table and scattered the scent throughout the room. Shourai's stomach grumbled in response, eager to dig into his mother's home cooked meal.

He spoke up as she took a seat.

"I'm not good at sharing."

Chi-Chi barely looked at him, but waved a hand in his direction.

"Don't worry. You've already seen these two eat," she said. "It's not like hunger's anything new around this house."

Gohan laughed, reaching for some toast and a plate of eggs. Scraping a bit of sausage on top, he risked a glance over to Shourai.

"I think he's talking about something else, actually. We've seen him eat too, remember?"

Chi-Chi nodded and ripped a bite off of a strip of bacon. Goku, on the other side of the table, was already stacking up a mountain of food onto his plate. Gohan, in comparison, had separated his breakfast into three or four different plates, all laid out differently. Where his father preferred quantity, the younger Gohan was a sucker for presentation and variety.

Shourai, on the other hand, had barely touched any food.

"Speaking of, aren't you going to eat anything? You usually eat almost as much as these two," Chi-Chi chided, raising a brow. "Or are you not feeling well? If you get my Gohan sick…"

"it's not that," Shourai interjected.

"I'm… uh, not who… I said I was."

He rubbed at the crook of his neck while Chi-Chi swallowed another bite of food. Gohan looked up at him in earnest now, his face full of curiosity. Goku didn't seem particularly shocked — but judging by his facial expression, he was more preoccupied with the food on the table than the revelation unfolding across it.

"Yes," Chi-Chi said, her brow still quirked. "We figured that out already."

Shourai choked on thin air.

"You did?!"

"Well, not many tutors come by that can keep up with Goku. Lord knows any reputable tutor wouldn't want to come here after Gohan ran the last fella off," Chi-Chi elaborated, shooting a severe look at her son.

Gohan pretended not to see it, but a single bead of sweat raced down his cheek.

"Plus," he cut in, trying to take the focus off of himself, "you're stronger than most humans should be. I saw you fight Cold, remember? Er, didn't tell mom that part, but..."

The severe look only worsened.

Shourai rubbed the back of his neck, his face rapidly flushing. This wasn't how he expected this conversation to go. He expected more yelling, some fighting — maybe even an expression of disappointment.

"Why did you guys let me stay here if you knew?"

"Any friend of my husband's is a friend of mine. If that gi you're wearing is anything, you must've known his grandfather. The Gohan my father knew, who I named my son after, would never train someone untrustworthy."

Shourai'd forgotten all about the Ox-King's having known his namesake. It hadn't come up much during his childhood, but it made sense. He'd seen the gigantic man visiting the shrine a few times, probably out of respect.

"As far as I can tell, you're not a bad influence on my son, either. He's been learning a lot from you, Shourai… although I can't help but think he'd be doing better with someone else, he's never gotten along with a tutor better than he does with you. I don't think he's complained about you once."

Gohan swallowed a mouthful of eggs.

"I don't complain about all my tutors," he said. "Just the bad ones. Shourai's not a bad one."

"Er, thanks, but you still don't know who I really am."

"You came to warn us about the Androids," Gohan reasoned. "Who don't come for three years. That means one of two things, I think."

Shourai wriggled in his chair a little while his younger self reasoned it out. He could feel the gears turning in the boy's head, putting all of the clues together for the first time.

"You won't tell me what you did before you came to help us… and whenever I ask questions about where you're from, you say you grew up around here. You've gotta be from the future."

"That sounds a little circumstantial," Shourai said.

"Well, you've also got my name on your clothes. And last time mom cut my hair, it tried to do that thing yours does."

Shourai reached for his hair, which made him look like he'd just rolled out of bed, and frowned. Was it really that obvious? He thought he'd made his hair look morel ike Dad's.

"Plus, you're a Super Saiyan. Dad's the only Saiyan around, other than Vegeta. Wearing the clothes you do, and looking like you do, you've gotta be me."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Trunks would've blended in a lot better than me, I guess."

"Trunks?"

"Er, not— my student. You're right. I'm from the future."

"Is that what you were talking to Yamcha and Krillin about, the other day?"

The next few minutes were a repeated back and forth, going over the information he'd shared with his father earlier in the day. He mentioned the deaths of his friends, and the troubles he'd experienced fighting the Androids. He even brought up some of the stories he had about training with Trunks, but did his best to avoid mentioning the boy's parents. The last thing he needed was to somehow change _that_. Gohan took the news a lot better than he thought he would; more than fear, the boy's curiosity was apparent. He devoured every bit of new information by dissecting it with further questions. By the time they were done, he knew all about Shourai and just about every battle he'd fought.

Chi-Chi, throughout the discussion, was fairly silent. It wasn't until they'd cleared all of the food from the table and sent Gohan to his room to study that Shourai took note of it, but she hadn't said so much as a word after talk of the future started.

Standing by the sink, she stood over a mountain of dishes, hiding her face. The water ran over her fingers, washing away the remnants of their meal and the food still stuck to each plate.

Goku wrapped his arms around her from behind and she noted her husband's warmth; like some kind of space heater, he warmed every room. It was one of the things she loved the most about him. His warmth, his determination, the way he carried himself… the way he laughed and the way his eyes got all crazy when he learned something new. There was a lot to love about Goku, and she was glad to see a lot of it in her son.

The thing that scared her, though, wasn't what she saw in Gohan. It was what she saw in Shourai, the man at her table. She'd seen the wounds he'd come back from the mountains with. She'd seen the weight in his gait, heavy on his shoulders, as if he were lifting the world with every step. She could see the fear in his eyes, the same, shameful fear that were in Gohan's when he didn't finish his homework or when he didn't eat his broccoli, magnified by a thousand.

Above all else, it was the guilt there, that she didn't know how to remedy.

She understood how to fix most of Goku's problems. Food and comfort did that. For now, Gohan's problems were still easy. A few hints on a math problem, or a nudge in the right direction for history. Ice cream if he had a bad day, or the chance to go fishing with his father if he needed a break.

The pain of losing it all — she had no words for. She could sort of feel the pain. She'd felt the same thing after the Saiyans came. She remembered losing Gohan while he went off to Namek, but she always knew he'd come back. She even remembered the loss of her husband for the first time, after he went off to save Gohan against Raditz. She remembered thinking she'd lost him a second time, against some space monster.

For as long as she could remember, Goku always found a way to come back, to make everything better. She was strong enough to bear it without him, but he'd always been there to lessen that burden. The image of a world without him was a terrifying one, and for that reason, she couldn't place or placate her son's pain.

Goku kissed her gently on the cheek, and Chi-Chi finally spoke up.

"You're my son," she said, as if making note of it.

Shourai said nothing.

"From the future. Where a bunch of killer robots beat everybody."

Shourai squirmed in his seat, unsure of how to respond.

She wasn't wrong.

Chi-Chi turned the water off, suddenly, and turned to face him. Goku stood beside her, concern playing across his face. He didn't know what she was going to say either, as much as he wished he did.

"Are you going to stop them?"

"Yeah."

"Then that's all I need to know."

She approached the table and stood before him, her hands at her sides.

"My son wouldn't lie to me, not unless he had to. I know you're not lying to me now."

Her hands, lithe and strong from years of training, came to rest on his shoulders.

"And Gohan, make no mistake," she said, leaning in to give him a peck on the forehead. "As big and tall as you are, you _are_ my son."

His face flushed red. Goku smiled in the background, arms crossing over his chest as Chi-Chi moved to leave the room.

"And as long as you're my son, you'll do the same chores my son would."

"You can start by finishing the dishes."

* * *

While Shourai finished the dishes, Goku took his (younger) son out on a fishing trip. With the warm autumn slowly giving way to winter, they wouldn't have many more chances to go have fun together before their training really kicked up in intensity. While things like hunting and fishing were good for honing one's senses, there wasn't any suitable substitute for actual combat experience, which was something Gohan could acquire over the course of the winter.

Krillin joined them as they took a seat on the west bank of the local river, his fishing pole already slung over his shoulder. Goku nodded to him when he sat down and scooted over so that he'd have all the room he needed.

"Y'know, I'm still stuck on why we don't just reach in with our hands," Krillin laughed, casting his rod.

Gohan and Goku's lines were already in the water, swaying gently in the breeze. Beneath the surface of the water, a few sad looking fish flitted by, their bodies glimmering in the dim sunlight.

"That'd be boring," Goku grinned. "There'd be no fish left if we did that."

"Dad, you did that the last time we went fishing—"

Goku flailed and leaned over to cup a hand over Gohan's mouth, looking frantic.

"Ssh, Gohan! Don't tell him!"

The two men laughed heartily as Gohan looked between them, a little confused. Truth be told, he'd never understood the dynamic between Krillin and his father. He heard, once, that they'd been rivals. Krillin even said as much the last time they went shopping… but every time they were together, it was like they were best friends.

No, that wasn't quite right. It wasn't "like" they were best friends. That's what they were.

The part that confused him was that he almost never saw them spending time together, unless it was some kind of training or fishing. They'd gone on that trip recently though, which he supposed he had to count.

Then again, a lot of the stories he heard happened long before he'd been born. It made sense that they'd have been good friends in the past, or while he was too young to remember.

"So, how goes the Kaio-ken training?"

"Aw, man. I'm up to times four, now. Yamcha's already hitting ten and he thinks he can go higher, but I'm not about to watch him get blown up because he got cocky. You know him, though. Once he gets something in his head, he doesn't wanna let it go."

"Yeah, that's Yamcha for ya. He doing okay? Chi-Chi mentioned he and Bulma broke up the other day."

"They're always hot and cold, Goku. I don't think he's super worried about it. He's out hunting down the dragonballs right now, though. I think he took Tien and Chiaotzu with him to speed things along. I offered to help, but he said he wanted some quality time with Tien."

"Dragonball hunting's not really good quality time," Gohan interjected.

Krillin spared him an amused look as his rod shook a little. He didn't reel it in, but Gohan reflexively jerked his own back a bit… and felt only water. He didn't know why he'd expected something on his line just because he'd seen Krillin's move. Something about fishing always made him jumpy, like he'd miss the fish if he waited too long — and every minute that passed was a minute too long.

"It depends. You could split up and make good time, but we're not really in that position. Even once we get the balls here, we've gotta wait for your dad or Bulma to schmooze things over with the Nameks. They've already let us use their balls once, during the fight with Frieza. They're nice and all, but pressing them's just gonna test their patience."

"King Kai said he might've found a good place for the Nameks," Goku said. "Shourai didn't know where the planet was, but something about the way he said it tipped King Kai off."

"Good. The more we change the future, the more comfortable I am."

"Oh yeah, Shourai told everyone at the house this morning," Goku interjected, planting his fishing pole firmly in the ground between his crossed legs. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees and looked over to Krillin. "It went pretty well. Right, Gohan?"

Gohan nodded. Despite the fact that he'd, apparently, known Krillin since birth, he still didn't know him all that well. Did Krillin know Shourai's identity too?

"I still don't know why he hid it in the first place," Krillin muttered. "He showed up in a gi with his name on it, went Super Saiyan, and then kicked Frieza to the curb. As if we wouldn't figure out who he was."

That answered that.

"Well, to be fair," Gohan cut in, "time travel's a bit far fetched."

"Jeez, Goku. I never expected to hear something like that out of _your_ son."

Goku laughed, and Gohan couldn't help but to snicker along with him. It was a good natured jab, albeit a pretty direct one.

"Time travel is a bit far fetched," Krillin finally admitted. "But compared to the other stuff we've seen? Magical wish granting balls? The, what, Goku? Three different gods we've met? Kami, King Yemma, King Kai?"

"I don't think King Yemma was supposed to be a god kinda guy," Goku muttered, scratching at his cheek.

Krillin grinned in response.

"He seemed more like a secretary. And King Kai seems kinda like a mini-god. You know, like the kinda god you'd find on sale or something."

Then he sighed when his line snapped in the wind.

Goku laughed harder than ever, but it died down to a snicker when Krillin gave him a disappointed look. Gohan was pretty sure that King Kai didn't make Krillin's line snap, but he wouldn't have put it past Kami or Mr. Popo to arrange a strong breeze to come by when somebody disrespected the gods. Then again, he wasn't even sure Kami could do that. He'd only met Kami once.

"Dad, how many people are training to fight the Androids right now?"

Goku leaned back and appraised his son with a little curiosity. He counted the names off on his fingers as they came to him, face filled with concern.

"Well, there's, uh… Krillin, obviously… Tien, Piccolo, Vegeta's probably training… Yamcha's training too. I don't think Chiaozu is actually training so much as he is just helping Tien out…"

"That sounds right," Krillin muttered, still restringing his pole. "Chiaozu isn't really a fighter anymore. After the Saiyan stuff, he told me it wasn't for him anymore."

"Can't blame him," Goku replied. "I'd be pretty sad if I died too."

Krillin couldn't contain himself. He practically rolled with laughter.

"Coming from the guy with a death and a half over his head. Rich."

"Aww, c'mon, Krillin, you've died twice now."

"Yeah, but the second time was only for a few minutes. And you missed me for every single one of 'em."

"Krillin, are you saying you didn't miss me while I was dead?!"

Gohan felt so out of place during the entirety of the conversation at hand, but he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort and camaraderie budding within him. Something about the whole thing filled him with hope — to hear them laughing about something so tragic and morbid, it was almost as if anything, even death, could be fixed.

Then he remembered Shourai.

He remembered the idea of a world without dragonballs, or Mister Piccolo, or Krillin. Even his dad was gone, there. He was the only one left, apparently, and he couldn't win.

Goku pulled back on his line, tugging a gigantic freshwater herring out of the river. He struggled with it for a second, just to get a good look, and then placed it on the ground beside him.

"You okay, Gohan?"

Goku glanced over to his son, who was still pale; his arms were trembling, if subtly, and there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Taking a seat beside his son, Goku wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

"Hey, bud. What's wrong?"

"How can… how can you guys act so happy about everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if we can't… what if we don't beat the Androids? What if you still die and Mister Piccolo dies and Mister Krillin, you too… and I'm all alone?"

Sometimes, Gohan was so smart that Goku forgot his age. Smiling gently, the innocent saiyan patted Gohan on the shoulder and glanced over to Krillin, who looked just as concerned as the kid beside him. Krillin already understood, though. He got it, he'd lived through it a few times.

"Son, no matter how tough things get, you've gotta keep moving forward. That's all there is to it. We're gonna give it our best shot. Maybe we'll win. Maybe we won't. But I'll tell you what, I don't intend to get sick and I'm not gonna let some robot take me down any time soon."

"You can't help that, Dad," Gohan sniffled, the tears falling freely from his eyes now.

"Hey, look at me, Gohan."

Gohan glanced up at him and Goku studied him in return, taking an uncharacteristically long moment to gather his thoughts. If it were anyone else, he knew what he would've said. He could've told Yamcha not to worry, he could've told Krillin that it'd all be okay. He probably wouldn't have needed to tell Tien or Piccolo anything at all.

Vegeta… well, Vegeta wouldn't have needed the pep talk. Bulma or Chi-Chi wouldn't have waited to bring the question up… but more importantly, they knew the spiel too.

"Gohan, you're named after the bravest, strongest man I've ever known. Do you know what he taught me?"

Gohan didn't respond immediately, so Goku went on.

"He taught me to never give up, no matter how bad things look. He taught me that, if I put my best effort in, it'll be enough. More importantly," Goku said, face serious. "He never stopped smiling. This whole thing is hard on all of us, son… but if we let it get to us, we've already lost."

"Can you be brave for me, Gohan? Can you smile for me, son?"

Gohan sniffled again and wiped at his eyes, only to look down a second later. Slowly, the corners of his lips spread upward, and he glanced back up at his father. His eyes darted back and forth a few times, and Goku blinked as his son's dour expression found itself replaced by an unmistakable grin. He didn't bother to question the impact of his moral until Krillin started laughing, only for Gohan to follow suit a second later.

"What? Did I—"

"Dad, your fish!"

"Looks like it's making a run for it, Goku," Krillin chuckled, watching as Goku dove backward and flailed wildly for the fish that was now bouncing its way back to the water.

Goku dove off of the river bank after it as it flopped off, and landed in the river with a loud _plop_.

When he surfaced, his fish nowhere to be seen, Gohan and Krillin were still laughing.

* * *

_A/N: Hey again, guys. Hope you like this chapter, even though it's a lot less action-y. I tried to get a lot of the Son family dynamic in play here. We'll get to see a little more of the less featured Z-Fighters in the next chapter, while they go about gathering the dragonballs. After that, we've got some future action coming up, and then the start of the next arc! I hope you guys dig it._

_Above all else, though, I'd like to thank everyone for coming by and staying so far. It really inspires me to know that people like to read what I put out, and it's always awesome to see reviews come in._

_Q: __I laughed imagining Goku wondering why his son was just watching him during the kamehameha! I wonder how Krillin and Yamcha fared in their battle. And Piccolo never showed up? I guess he figured Goku could handle it, and just observed from a distance as he usually does.  
__A: Kinda. Piccolo was busy with… something else, which you'll get to see in the near future. In regards to Goku, truth be told, he wasn't thinking about it too much! One of the best things about Goku's character is that he tends to go into auto-pilot during moments that matter, where nothing else matters except the task at hand. Sometimes it's a good thing, other times, it's a curse._

_Q: __As much as I don't agree with you making Super Saiyan a flat boost instead of the 50x boost (which has been confirmed as the canon multiplier according to the daizenshuu), this is a brilliant story and I'm glad you're letting the humans have a bit of the spotlight. One request though, please give Piccolo a major role! He's one of my favorite characters!  
__A: You're gonna get a huge kick outta the special too. As I mentioned a while ago, I intend for it to be double the length of a typical chapter. If I'm feeling particularly ambitious, I'll split it into two parts… but it's gonna feature a really angry Vegeta and a particularly untrusting Piccolo._

_Q: I love how you've made Cooler a more lasting, dangerous villain than he was in the movie!  
__A: Thank you! I really hated how much potential they wasted with Cooler in the anime. I would have loved to see more of him, or the sci-fi side of things, but I'm a huge nerd for things like that._


	14. Hunting Grounds

While the others gathered the dragonballs, Shourai occupied himself by overseeing Gohan's training regimen. The boy was strong for his age, but he lacked the critical benefit of experience. While fighters like Krillin and Yamcha were low in power, they benefitted from a wealth of experience against foes stronger than them, which made them dangerous. Fighters like Piccolo, Vegeta, and his father, who had a surplus of both, were deadly opponents for any foe. They were titans of power and precision, capable of felling demons and gods alike.

Gohan, on the other hand, was a lot like a particularly enthusiastic fly. He didn't know how to draw out his inner power, couldn't go Super Saiyan, and had only a rudimentary understanding of actual combat. His biggest flaw, however, was his lack of intuition.

Shourai understood it; he'd been through it.

The first thing he needed to do was give the boy a basis to learn from. Piccolo had done a good job in providing Gohan with a foundation, but unlike his future counterpart, he hadn't yet been trained by Goku or Vegeta. Of course, there was still time, but he needed Gohan to be a lot stronger than he was now if they were going to defeat the Androids.

If he could give Gohan the way forward, his skills would increase a lot faster than Shourai's own.

Shourai considered this as he used a stick to draw a line in the dirt. Gohan watched him from a few feet away, face full of curiosity. His arms were full of heavy rocks and smooth stones.

"What're we doing out here, Shourai?"

A breeze swept through the trees of their little clearing; behind Shourai, a massive wall of stone loomed overhead, casting a shadow over the forest behind them. Though Gohan hadn't yet discovered the spot on his own, Shourai'd known about it for years.

"After the cyborgs showed up, I had to get a little creative with my training."

Gohan frowned and glanced down at the rocks in his arms.

"Creative?"

"Right. One of the first things I needed to hone to fight the cyborgs was my intuition," Shourai began, tossing the stick aside and thrusting a finger into the air. "You can't actually sense their ki. They've got a limitless amount of energy, but it's something else. It's not the energy we're used to sensing."

"So you honed your intuition to… do what? To find them?"

"Kind of. Here, step up to the line and get a rock in your hand. I'm going to close my eyes, and I want you to throw those at me as hard as you can, okay? Keep throwing until you've got none left."

Gohan did as he was told while Shourai placed his back up against the rock wall. They were maybe two meters away from each other, and that was an optimistic guess.

"But— but you're so close!"

Shourai smirked and sank into a combat stance, his eyes closed. Gohan eyed the stone in his hand for a moment, unsure of what to do. It was true that Shourai was a lot stronger than he was, but they were also super close… if he threw the stone at full power, Shourai might get hurt.

Considering the fact that he was still recovering from the battle against Cooler, that possibility was all too real.

"Don't worry, kid. You won't hit me."

Gohan exhaled.

He threw the first stone at Shourai's head with half of his full power — he could barely see the motion Shourai took to dodge it. Feeling a little more confident, he tossed a volley of three more stones at full power; Shourai wove in and out of their way with his eyes closed, his expression docile.

Gohan put his arm into the next few, loosing off five stones at Shourai's extremities. The half-saiyan ducked and wove gracefully out of the way, jumping over the final rock with a gentle huff. By the time Gohan worked his way to the final stone in the pile, Shourai wasn't even out of breath.

The rock wall behind him, however, was riddled with holes. Stony shrapnel littered the ground behind Shourai, broken off by Gohan's many efforts. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Gohan watched while Shourai reaffirmed his stance and opened his eyes. Still grinning, he looked pretty comfortable with the exercise.

"That was amazing," Gohan breathed. "I didn't even touch you!"

"It looks amazing, but really, it's simple. I've been doing this exercise a long time. At first, I had Bulma rig up a machine to do it for me, with metal balls instead of rocks, Trunks ended up taking its place after a while."

"You've mentioned Trunks before," Gohan noted. "Who is he? Does he show up after the androids do?"

Shourai scratched his chin while he considered how to explain Trunks — he couldn't tell Gohan everything, after all. There were a lot of things he'd already changed. He didn't want to accidentally change Trunks, too.

"A little before them," Shourai clarified. "I've known Trunks a long time. You'll meet him soon, too."

"Is he strong?"

"He's stronger than you are now, but not as strong as me. He's maybe twice as strong as you are, but he's also almost twice your age."

"And he hasn't hit you either?"

"No, he's hit me once or twice… but he throws them from a lot closer. I'm just showing you how the exercise works," Shourai explained. "What we're going to do next is turn the tables a little."

"What do you mean?"

Shourai grinned and quickly gathered a number of rocks of his own. Once he had about two dozen of them, he gestured for Gohan to take his place on the wall.

"It's my turn to pitch," he said.

"Don't worry, though. You don't have to close your eyes, okay?"

The two traded places and Shourai noted the distance Gohan threw from. Two meters wouldn't give Gohan time to dodge… so he took up a pitching position on the other side of the clearing, a full thirty meters away.

"You ready?!" Shourai shouted, turning a stone over in his hand.

"I— I think so!"

Shourai took a second to crack his knuckles before throwing the first stone at full power. It zipped through the air over Gohan's shoulder before the boy had time to react. The second stone came half a breath later, but Gohan managed to duck out of the way — and into the path of the third throw. He brought his elbow down to block it, but the sheer force knocked him back into the rock wall behind him. A fourth rock sailed by his right hip and he blocked a fifth with his forearm, but the stone's momentum blew his guard wide open.

Before he could react, Shourai appeared before him in a flash of static, his fist cocked back at his side. A coronet of golden light flickered at his wrist; blue eyes brimming with power, he stepped inward…

And Gohan fell back against the rock, his eyes wide with fear. He slumped down and fell to the dirt, shaking.

Shourai lorded over him, covered in lightning and raw power. The ground beneath him rumbled, stirred by the Super Saiyan's fierce display. From the dirt, he looked like a furious angel, ready to wash the world away.

An instant later, his power was gone, and the scowl on his face replaced by a wild grin. He extended a hand to Gohan.

"You've got to be careful, okay? A real opponent won't power down like I did," he said, pulling the boy back to his feet. "I know this was just an exercise, but you've gotta use your head, okay?"

Gohan sniffled and stared up at him, unsure of what to say.

"Look," Shourai continued. "You were so busy thinking about dodging the rocks that you forgot to use your senses. If you'd been paying attention, you'd have seen me coming."

"I _was_ paying attention," Gohan muttered in reply.

"Not to the right things," Shourai said, kneeling down to put a hand on his shoulder. "You've gotta focus on what you can feel, not what you're thinking. You were thinking about dodging the rocks, and you did, but you wanna know what I was thinking about when you threw them at me?"

"What?"

"Nothing. I wasn't thinking — I was feeling. I could hear the motions you were making and every breath you took. By the time you threw the rock, I knew where it was coming from, and because of the currents in the air, where it was going."

"You could tell all that with your eyes closed?"

"Well, yeah. You can too if you try. Think about it. You can sense energy, can't you?"

"Y-yeah."

"So how'd I scare you, a second ago?"

"I… I didn't notice you move."

"Right, but why?"

"I was thinking about where the next rock was going to come from, and how bad it hurt to get hit by them," Gohan said, his cheeks red.

"Right. You left yourself open. It's okay. I used to do the same thing. I think I got more bruises from training than I did the cyborgs, at first."

He chuckled and drew himself back to full height, giving Gohan one final pat on the shoulder.

"The trick of it is to use your aura, your own power, to feel out things that you can't sense. Much like we use our ki to keep our clothes intact during a fight, we can use it to sense out opponents that we might not see coming otherwise. When someone enters that aura, you feel it, instinctively. If you work on it, you can train that instinct into something much stronger, much more powerful."

"Now, let's try again. This time, keep something in mind: just because you don't know how to do something doesn't mean you're not doing it. You probably don't think about how you sense energy or breathe, but you do those things anyway. Let your body take over for your mind, so that you can move on that instinct, okay? I promise I won't scare you this time."

"Okay… Let's do it!"

* * *

The hunt for the dragonballs only took a few weeks. By the end of an unusually frigid October, Tien, Yamcha, and Krillin had gathered all of Earth's balls together. November settled in not long after, and just after Shourai and the others recovered, King Kai discovered a suitable substitute for the Namekian homeworld.

It was a little closer than Namek was, in terms of intergalactic geography, but otherwise identical. Covered in glittering, emerald oceans and orbited by two suns, it offered the Namekians more than nostalgia… it gave them a new home, one that wouldn't be endangered by the likes of Frieza or his ilk. The collapse of Cold's Empire, which King Kai attributed to some battle off in the depths of space, was almost complete.

With that in mind, Shourai and Gohan accompanied their father to the new Namekian homeworld, glad to see the Nameks at peace. Having missed the event in his own timeline, Shourai was glad to see everything go smoothly. His younger self enjoyed the majority of his time with Dende, and he got to spend more quality time with his father.

There was something cathartic in it — the time spent with his dad. It was simple and it reminded him of a time before life became complicated. That, he figured, was all he needed to know about it.

When the time came to make use of the Namekian dragonballs, his mind was at ease for the first time in years.

"So you wish to use our dragonballs again, Son Goku?"

"Yep," Goku replied, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head.

Elder Moori frowned deeply and rubbed at his wobbly green chin for a second, deeply contemplative. Goku and Shourai shared a concerned look with each other while the elder thought over their proposition… and then a deep sigh of relief when Elder Moori was overcome with laughter a moment later.

"Of course. Though we don't typically take this kind of thing very lightly, you've saved all of us, Son Goku. Not just us, as individuals, but our people. You're our planet's champion, whether you're aware of it or not."

Goku bowed to show his respect and Elder Moori called for the balls to be gathered. The whole process only took a few minutes, due in part to the fact that they hadn't yet been scattered to their respective village heads. Honestly, things were progressing smoother than Shourai thought possible; with no great evils looming overhead to stop them, the quest for the dragonballs was a lot more enjoyable than he remembered. Then again, he'd only sought to gather them once in his own childhood… and that was under the constant threat of being discovered by Frieza.

Over the next few minutes, Elder Moori sent for Dende and allowed Goku, and his sons, to take the balls to a nearby plateau.

"Thanks again, lil buddy," Goku said, patting Dende affectionately on the shoulder.

The little Namekian jumped a little at the unexpected contact but smiled back.

"It's no problem, Goku," he replied. "Gohan already filled me in on everything. You want to use the balls to fix that village that got blown up, right?"

"Yeah, kinda. It's more of a city, really, but that's the gist of it. Then we need everybody to forget that they got blown up, due to… well, y'know. That'd be super traumatic, wouldn't it?"

Dende nodded.

"Do you already have your friends on Earth ready with the balls there?"

Goku glanced up at the sky.

"They're ready, Goku," King Kai confirmed. His voice rang in all four of their heads, a sensation that caused Dende to shudder a little. Of the group, he was still the least used to it. Shourai wasn't too comfortable with it either, but he and Gohan both knew the little blue God well. They'd spent the summer prior trying to talk to him about their dad… although, for Shourai, that summer was years behind him.

Overhead, the sky grew dark. The dragonballs at their feet, each the size of a basketball, rolled together, herded by Dende's hand. Once the boy was ready, he extended his hands and looked to the sky.

"Takkaraputo popurunga pupirittoparo!"

All at once, the dragonballs faded into seven spheres of glittering light and shot into the sky. A massive dragon was born in their wake, and he lorded over the sky as if it were his home. Shourai's jaw dropped and his lips parted in admiration of Porunga as he took his place in the clouds, glowering down upon them with shimmering, crimson eyes.

"Putorittoparotapu, popiriparo?"

"What is your first wish, Goku?"

"For the damage done to the Eastern Capitol during Cooler's invasion to be undone," he said, having carefully rehearsed the wording. It wouldn't have done them any good to forget their wishes.

"King Kai, tell the others to wish everybody back," Goku whispered, as Dende relayed their first wish to Porunga.

After a second, King Kai shot back a reply. "Done, Goku!"

"Awesome! Dende, tell the dragon that we want everyone on Earth to forget Cooler's invasion."

Dende traded words with Porunga once again, and the dragon granted their second wish with a slow nod.

"It's done, Goku," Dende confirmed.

Goku grinned and put his hands on his hips, glad that everything was proceeding according to plan. The idea hadn't even struck him that things might not, but he was still glad to know everything was going well.

"Good," he said. "What're we wishing for next?"

He threw a glance at Shourai over his shoulder, expression full of curiosity.

Shourai looked up at Porunga, impatient — or maybe frustrated. He'd been deliberating over the third wish since his father broached the subject of using the dragonballs. His first thought had been to wish for the deactivation of the Androids… but since they weren't active yet, that wouldn't do him much good. Wishing them dead wouldn't work either since the dragonballs didn't work that way. No, the only option left was to be as direct, and as bold, as possible.

"Tell him we want to know the location of Doctor Gero's lab," Shourai said, staring up at Porunga. He could feel his heart pounding inside of his chest, deafening the world around him. He barely heard Dende's exchange with Porunga… but he certainly heard the words that followed it.

"He says it's in the northern mountains of your planet, between… Mount Frappe and the Spinach Wastes?"

Gohan threw a fist up in triumph, while Shourai drew in a deep breath. He'd only been to the Spinach Wastes once, as a kid… when Raditz had kidnapped him. Swallowing back his fear, Shourai looked to his father, who was smiling up at the Namekian dragon.

Knowing the location of Gero's lab was helpful, to an extent, but it wasn't the perfect wish. He was sure that they could have waited longer, figured something else out… but that wouldn't have been the right thing to do. The citizens of the East Capitol were dead because of their mistake. Their revival and the subsequent wishes were what set that mistake right, it was their duty.

Porunga vanished in a final, foreboding flash of light, reducing the Namekian dragonballs to basketball sized stones. Dende grinned and shared a high five with Gohan, who looked pretty thrilled. Goku turned back to appraise his eldest son, his face still laden with curiosity.

"Well, that takes care of that, huh?"

"Yeah," Shourai replied clumsily. "That takes care of that."

"Porunga was still a little vague," Goku admitted, rubbing his chin. "Telling us it's in the Northern Mountains isn't super specific… so we're going to have to search for the lab on our own… but at least we know where to start."

* * *

"You'd think a magical space dragon could be a little more specific," Tien muttered, cresting the head of a long trail. A myriad of lesser mountains spread out across the horizon, yet to be searched. He couldn't feel their ki signatures, but he knew that Goku, Gohan, Shourai, and Krillin were spread out somewhere below him, looking for Gero's Lab. They couldn't risk the doctor discovering them before they discovered him.

Yamcha came to a stop beside him, his eyes scanning the same view. The manual nature of their search was just as frustrating for him as it was for Tien, but he still looked comfortable. Wearing his turtle hermit gi and a set of weighted underclothes, he looked to be in good fighting shape.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I wanna get in on the action already."

"Really? If anything, I'd expect you to be as far away from all this as possible," Tien muttered, crossing his arms while surveying his friend. "You had that baseball thing going for you, right?"

"Hey, man, that's not all I had going for me," Yamcha shot back, laughing. "But you're not wrong. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve now, though. I'm not scared of some old dude and his robots."

"According to the time traveler down there, you probably should be. As strong as we are, we're not exactly a match for Goku… and apparently, he's not a match for the Androids yet either."

Yamcha huffed.

"That's why we're here, man. Find the cyborgs before they get turned on, blow 'em to smithereens, and make sure Gero can't make any more."

Tien watched the clouds roll by in the sky above and considered their options. The Northern Mountains were a part of the largest mountain range in the world. On foot, it would take them days — maybe even weeks — to thoroughly search for Gero's lab.

* * *

The cool winds of December were settled in by the time Tien found it. At first, he'd almost missed it, the glint of a camera lens against the darkness of pine. He darted behind a tree before the camera could acquire him, his heart racing while he scanned for more. He could make out four of them in the area; more were probably scattered throughout the forest, but he couldn't see them.

Tien inhaled deeply and with his exhalation came an outpouring of ki. Hidden behind the tree, he raised his power just enough for Yamcha and Krillin to pick up on it.

They were upon him in seconds, darting in and out between the trees in blurs of motion. One camera turned as Yamcha ducked into the shade of a pine to his left, but it continued its sweep seconds later, unperturbed. Krillin poked his head out from behind cover for just long enough to count the cameras.

"Four of them," he said. "Probably a few more scattered around."

"Yeah," Tien replied. "The lab must be close by here. Unless you guys have seen some cameras?"

"Nah," Yamcha muttered, looking a little pale. "Nothing on my end, at least. Krillin, what about you?"

Krillin shook his head.

"It's gotta be down that way."

The bald monk pointed to a trail a few hundred feet away, on the other side of Gero's camera coverage. Tien nodded and looked over to Yamcha, the last one to find the trail.

"We should get going," Tien said. "See if we can't sneak in."

"What about Goku and the others?"

"If we're in trouble, we can give off some kind of signal. Besides, if we use our normal strength, they'll pick us up in an instant. Goku has that teleporting technique, remember?"

"Oh yeah… I guess you're right," Yamcha replied.

"Let's do this!"

The world faded into a series of blurs as the trio advanced through the dense woodland and uphill. The familiar grays and greens of the wintry forest gave way to dingy browns as they followed the path Gero'd left to find his own laboratory.

The three super warriors flipped over a final outcropping of rocks and landed at the entryway to a large man-made cave. A massive set of double doors rested just beyond the entrance, shimmering in reflection of the sunset. For a moment, nobody said anything. They observed, beholden to the gate before them. A red ribbon tied over the crease in the doorway, emblazoned with two, sterile looking R's.

Yamcha's fists clenched at his sides and his eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbol. Krillin's face went pale and Tien merely frowned. He recognized the insignia of the Red Ribbon Army, but it bore different memories for him than it did Yamcha and Krillin. He'd once been a supporter, due in no small part to the involvement of his mentor's brother, Tao Pai Pai… but it hadn't taken him long to see the error of his ways.

"This looks like the place."

"What gave you that idea?" Krillin replied, a little sour.

Thinking about the facing down the Red Ribbon Army's last holdout was one thing, but faced with the actual task of doing it… it was something else entirely. These were the people that plagued his best friend's childhood, intent on destroying him and enslaving the world they shared.

The trio stepped forward, their power levels slowly rising… but stopped when a robotic voice greeted them from beyond the gate.

"Krillin. Yamcha. Tien Shinhan," it said, as if reading their names from a page. There was something jovial in the voice's tone, as if it were pleased to see them. "What brings you here?"

Yamcha was the one to answer. He took a step forward, so that he stood at the very base of Gero's doorway. The mass of metal loomed over him, but the shadows scattered as he slowly ascended to his full power.

"We're here to stop you, Gero."

There was a pause as the microphone cut out for a moment. Yamcha could only imagine that Gero was preparing to flee, but he wasn't going to give him the chance. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and punched straight through the steel. Groaning, he pulled back and ripped the leftmost door off of its hinges. A wild grin adorned his face as he tossed it aside, revealing the dark innards of Gero's inner sanctum…

A discharge of static came through the speakers beside the doorway, along with a deep, sinister laugh that chilled the wolfish warrior's bones.

"Then you're too late."

Inside of the laboratory, three pods lingered, labeled by a series of numbers designating their model. Yamcha eyed them warily, but advanced into the laboratory anyway. Goku, Shourai, and Gohan appeared at his back with a gentle _whirr_, their eyes narrowed.

"You guys found it," Shourai muttered, slowly stepping out from behind his father. His eyes traveled over every inch of the laboratory, taking in every detail he could. A large supercomputer dominated the center of the lab, offset by the three pods decorating its base. A simple podium rested to his right, empty. Tools and supplies hung on the East wall, and a poorly lit stairway led the way down into a sub basement on the West side of the lab.

The rearmost wall was obscured by the supercomputer, but Shourai could make out the glint of three more pods, likely home to more androids. A hastily abandoned, metallic skeleton hung beside the rightmost pod, glinting in the light.

He couldn't help but feel a strange sensation overtake him — as if he'd been there before, in some other life. The hair raising on the back of his neck felt familiar, and he understood that feeling to be one of mild fear. How long would it be until Gero completed the cyborgs? How long until the world was brought to its knees?

It was then that he realized something he should've noticed as soon as he stepped foot in the lab — the pods before him were labeled strangely.

"Thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen?"

"I thought there were only two of them," Krillin interjected, sounding confused.

"There are," Shourai clarified, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Seventeen and Eighteen."

With a subtle hiss, smoke slowly fled the center pod. As its door cracked open, the rightmost pod began the same sequence.

"So who the hell are these two?"

Yamcha's fists wove an elaborate pattern over his chest while he sank into his battle stance, eyes fixed on the pods through the smoke. Tien and Krillin stepped up to flank him while Goku, Gohan, and Shourai stood firm.

"Gohan, stay back," Goku said, his expression fierce.

"But Dad, I've been training! I can fight too!"

"As strong as you are, I can't fight at full power if I have to protect you. If something happens or goes wrong, I might not be able to step in to keep you safe."

Gohan, with images of the battle against Nappa in his head, nodded and shot back to the entryway of the lab. Shourai watched him go, turning his attention to the pods only when they stopped hissing. Something about the whole scene felt off. He'd never encountered any androids numbered lower than seventeen. Could the cyborgs before him be another result of his interference?

"Gero must have seen us coming somehow," Shourai realized, crossing his arms over his chest. Goku, beside him, nodded. A thin layer of dust covered the computer's central console, an indicator that the doctor fled long before they'd arrived.

"He had a few cameras set up," Tien mentioned. "Think he saw us on those?"

"We can check the computer after we trash these guys, but I doubt it," Yamcha replied, throwing his hair over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't be so cocky," Shourai said. "If they're as strong as the Androids I know, we've walked into a death trap."

"Tien, keep Gohan safe. Me, Yamcha, and Shourai'll handle whatever comes out of here. If things get bad, take him back home. Krillin, stay nearby for support. We might need your help."

"Goku, that's—"

Tien's reply was cut off by a loud bang when the door of the first pod was kicked off of its hinges. He and Krillin bolted backward as a large figure stepped into the clearing smoke. Beside him, two more figures clambered out of their pods, whose doors had receded automatically. A long mane of wild, white hair ran down the figure's back, which was covered by a golden vest. Its front end was emblazoned with a split, leather version of the logo on Gero's gates. Green fatigues covered his lower half and filled a pair of heavy looking boots.

Beside him, an even taller, shirtless android emerged; his hair, tied up in a ponytail behind his head, served as a stark contrast to his pale, white skin. His eyes were locked on Yamcha, whose wild grin set him apart from the other two warriors.

The third android to emerge was female. Easily far younger than the other two, a set of brown bangs fell around her face, contained by two bonds of gold. Just as pale as the android on her left, she looked more like a doll than a fighter. Compared to the stoic looking android beside her, she looked like a teenage girl in long stockings and a corset-like black dress.

"Son Goku," Thirteen began, his voice deep and dulcet. "Current battle power unknown. You're gonna be a tough one to crack."

"He's not the only one you're dealing with," Shourai responded, stepping forward.

"You're going to have to go through us if you want to get to him."

Thirteen's blue eyes flickered between Shourai, Goku, and Yamcha for a moment. Though he looked remarkably different from the cyborgs Shourai knew, he carried himself in the same arrogant way. It made Shourai's blood boil. Nostrils flaring, the young hybrid stared the three cyborgs down, aware that, for once, he wasn't going to be fighting them alone.

"Tell you what, hotshot." Thirteen's resolve didn't waver as he cracked his gloved knuckles and popped the joints in his neck. "How about we waste the six of you, all at once, if you're that eager? Whattaya say, Fourteen? Fifteen?"

Fourteen nodded his assent, while Fifteen just looked over at Thirteen, otherwise unresponsive. Thirteen took her lack of enthusiasm as a yes, though, and continued his speech.

"It looks to me like y'all have really stepped in it. What did you think was gonna happen, walking into the Doctor's lab? We've gotta hand it to ya. You've really earned the beatdown coming your way."

"You're certainly talking a big game," Goku shot back. "You sure you can back all that up?"

"You're the one who walked into a beehive, boy. You think Gero didn't know you were coming? You think he didn't plan for this?"

Shourai's scowl didn't fade, but deepened at the announcement that Gero saw them coming. Somehow, he'd known. Hopefully, Yamcha was right — after they trashed the androids in front of them, they could check the computers in the lab.

"Enough talk," he said. "I've been dealing with monsters like you my whole life. We're not getting anywhere with this. Krillin, go see if you can pick up Gero's trail. We'll deal with these guys. Tien, get Gohan out of here."

Goku spoke next, sparing Yamcha a quick glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Be careful, Yamcha. We don't know how strong these guys are yet. If you can't keep up, we can cover your retreat."

Tien, Krillin, and Gohan scattered into the sky, leaving Goku and the others to face down three killer cyborgs.

The fighting began in the blink of an eye; Thirteen launched himself at Goku, but Yamcha and Shourai stepped in to stop him. Shourai knocked the android's incoming fist aside and Yamcha struck him in the gut, filling the lab's interior with thunder. Thirteen reeled back, more surprised by the brazenness of the attack than he was hurt, and pivoted in place.

His boot slammed into Yamcha's chin, entombing the poor warrior in the rocky ceiling above. Shourai gasped and pushed inward, swinging at Thirteen — but the cyborg was ready for him. Ducking beneath a wild punch, he brought the flat of his hand down on the hybrid's back and sent him sprawling against the lab floor.

Goku vanished while his son and comrade recovered, Thirteen giving chase just milliseconds behind him.

Yamcha freed himself from his tomb with a burst of fiery, red ki and landed back on the tiled floor of the lab. He could see Goku and Thirteen racing into the distant sunset, their auras clashing back and forth like battling flames.

"You okay?" Shourai asked, clambering to his feet. Despite the minor setback, he was still feeling okay. Thirteen hadn't hit him at full strength, which was troubling, but the real battle hadn't yet begun. He wouldn't know how things were going until the sandbagging stopped.

"Yeah," Yamcha replied, gritting his teeth. He was frustrated — but that could wait. "Let's trash these guys."

The two warriors turned to face their remaining two foes. The tall, surly Fourteen and the slender, somewhat less intimidating Fifteen. Their hands were clenched at their sides into fists, the only markers of their latent malintent. Fifteen's eyes flickered to the battle unfurling in the skies behind the two fighters, and after a moment, turned to Fourteen.

"Number Thirteen has the edge. Son Goku is still within manageable power limits," she said. "For now, we will handle these two in order to prevent interference."

Fourteen nodded and crouched, raising a fist in Shourai and Yamcha's direction.

The two warriors shot forward in the blink of an eye, but their foes met them in the middle. Yamcha's elbow slammed into Fourteen's forearm and Shourai's knee sailed straight over Fifteen's head. The halfbreed spun in place as he retreated toward the supercomputer, waving his right hand over his chest. Ki-forged starlings cut through the air and exploded against Fourteen's back, giving Yamcha the edge he needed to push forward and bowl the cyborg over.

He came skidding to a halt next to Shourai, grinning like a madman, smoke from the half-saiyan's blasts trailing off of his shoulders.

Fifteen came blasting through the emerging cloud, her fingers glittering with golden energy and her face blank. Yamcha kicked off to meet her, leading the way with a flashy kick that sailed over her head. The little android, having ducked beneath the blow, flew onward until she collided with Shourai at the base of the supercomputer.

Their fists met with a massive, deafening boom that shook the foundations of the lab and rattled the half-saiyan's teeth. His boots slid back against the flooring and dust shook free from the ceiling… but he returned fire with a heavy overhand that slammed into the little cyborg's face. Fifteen careened backward, over Fourteen's shoulder as Yamcha's boot took his knee out from under him, and right out of the cave's interior.

Yamcha rolled to the left as Shourai went blasting by and buried another boot in Fourteen's diaphragm, knocking him onto his back. The android rolled onto his shoulders and pushed forward once again, swinging for the wolfish warrior's face. Yamcha followed the blow with his eyes and swayed to the left, returning fire with a rapid fire pair of jabs that crashed into Fourteen's face and chest.

Fourteen reached out as Yamcha swung again, catching the warrior's fist before it could collide with his cheek. Placing one hand on the underside of the bandit's bicep, he pivoted and slung him into the wall.

Meanwhile, Shourai and Fifteen continued their battle up and down the pathway leading to Gero's laboratory. Shourai gave chase as Fifteen darted back and forth through the trees, his fists cleaving through the wood as if it were made of paper. Every blow left splinters of pine bark to linger in the air and shower upon the forest trail, markers of destruction left behind by a man in dogged pursuit of victory.

Fifteen sank low to the ground as Shourai flew by her and circled around, this time using his superior speed to his advantage. Time slowed as he brought his left leg down toward her shoulder, determined to plant her in the earth… but she swerved to the left just in time and blasted by, leaving the agitated hybrid to follow after her yet more.

Wreathed in blue light, Shourai pursued her until she suddenly arced into the dying sky overhead and cut through into cloud cover.

He paused and watched as a barrage of golden streaks sliced through the darkness in an effort to swallow him whole. Eight of them encircled him and wiped his after-image from the sky in a flash of light and thunder.

He reappeared above the female android. Wisps of crackling light trailed from the tip of his boot as it made contact with her back and sent her rocketing back to the forest below. Shourai zoomed after her, his hands alight with two masses of crackling, golden power.

"Masenko…!"

When she turned, he vanished again, only to reappear at her side, both spheres fused into one that hung in his palms. She raised her hand in defense, but he knew there was no way she could mitigate the blast at such a close range.

"Ha!"

The blastwave tore through the forest and consumed everything in a gout of unrelenting power, reducing the forestry to cinder and ash. The ground beneath his feet rumbled and shook as ash fell from the sky, revealing a relatively unharmed Android Fifteen. Crouching low and now a hundred feet back at what had been the Masenko's outermost range, her left hand hung in the air, a single, red jewel protruding from it. Ropy tendrils of golden light still clung to her fingers, slowly flocking to the jewel in the center of her palm like water into the bottom of a sink.

Shourai's scowl didn't waiver, but he did straighten up. If he understood it right, she'd just absorbed his Masenko at point blank range… apparently, all because of a little jewel in her hand. He was certain that there were more intricate, underlying mechanics involved in the process, but the jewel appeared to be the conduit of absorption.

"Impressive," he muttered. "You absorb ki?"

"Yes," she replied, rising to her feet. There wasn't so much as a scorch mark on her hand.

Stepping forward into the ashen trail he'd forged, Shourai couldn't help but wonder what significance that bore. Gero hadn't equipped Seventeen or Eighteen with that kind of technology in the future... had he really made that adjustment purely because of his arrival?

Stacking another burden on his shoulder, Shourai shirked the restraints of his base form, ascending to Super Saiyan in a flash of golden light. Offset by a coronet of lightning, he strode toward the cyborg, who appeared altogether unfazed by the transformation's strength. He expected that part, at least — though Gero didn't know of the transformation, he'd more than accounted for it in Seventeen and Eighteen. Then again, perhaps it was the girl's bravado, or more likely, her programming that prevented her from showing fear.

Back by the lab, Yamcha rolled beneath a stone shattering kick from Fourteen that cut into the mountainside. They'd been fighting up and down the path since Shourai'd left the lab. Yamcha figured it had something to do with Fourteen not wanting to stray too far from Fifteen. Birds of a feather, and all.

Fourteen's fist slammed into his chin and Yamcha stumbled but brought his guard back up in time to deflect a pair of incoming jabs. He popped a third one up into the air and struck back with a powerful hook that crashed into Fourteen's cheek, but the cyborg didn't react. Instead, he pushed inward, closing the gap in between a series of rapid punches that forced Yamcha onto the defensive.

"Oh no you don't!"

Yamcha, not very eager to let the cyborg into such close range, danced back across the path, the tips of his toes carving through the dirt.

The cyborg shot in anyway, weaving a pattern of precise, cutting strikes that would have felled a more technical fighter. For Yamcha, though, they were easy to see coming. For as much technicality as Fourteen had in his little electronic brain, he wasn't good at improvisation… which meant that he had a very predictable rhythm.

"You're lame, you know that?"

Humming to himself, the wolf bandit deflected a strike he knew was coming and buried his fist deep in the android's gut with gusto. Fourteen staggered as Yamcha poured on the pressure, unleashing with a flurry of blows that sent his foe into full retreat… which he punctuated with a spinning kick that sent Fourteen flying.

"Where ya going, pal?"

Before he could recover, Yamcha bolted forward to the edge of the path and leaped into the air. His left forearm hung in front of his face and his fingers bent at his waist, summoning a sphere of shimmering light that swelled to fit his hand. Then, with a grunt, he pitched the ball forward and watched it soar through the air, whistling like a firework on a holiday.

It collided with Fourteen and exploded with a loud, hollow _bang_.

Streamers of smoke trailed from the cyborg's shoulders as he fell to the ground and took a knee, his eyes stuck on the triumphant looking wolf in the sky.

"Had enough?"

* * *

Far away, Tien and Gohan watched the battle unfold.

Their eyes darted between the three battlefields, though Gohan's lingered on his father's more than any other… for Tien, his third eye was stuck on Yamcha. Though Gohan couldn't literally see that particular battle, Tien could. He could feel Yamcha's power level fluctuating wildly, which was worrying… but not because the wolf was in danger. The foreboding feeling he couldn't shake was something else entirely. It wasn't worry...

No, Tien could feel himself being surpassed.

Yamcha was using the Kaio-ken in incredibly short bursts — likely just enough time to land a strike on his opponent. From what Tien understood, the technique could wreck a person's body… which meant Yamcha was using it to mitigate the strain. Though it was probably really effective in that regard, it also left him open. Still, Android Fourteen hadn't made use of that vulnerability yet. If they were lucky, he couldn't sense energy. Plus, something told him Yamcha's power could go even higher.

_Tchk._

Shourai's battle was also going pretty well. He'd been lagging behind a little before ascending to Super Saiyan, but his transformation was a heavy one. It was for that reason that Tien wasn't too worried. Between Shourai and Goku, they had no way to lose the battle at hand.

At least, provided the Androids weren't holding back.

_Tchk. Tchk._

Lost in thought, neither he nor Gohan heard a dark hunter approach through the forest around them.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys! This chapter took a lot longer to write for a few reasons. Namely, the fact that I had to set up a few things in separate documents before writing it… which led to me retconning a few things from the canon and me deciding to include the batch of cyborgs that you read about here. The biggest thing that I ended up doing, though, was writing a primer on the various timelines that're going to be associated with the story. I wanted to make sure that, in the saga coming up, everything would stay consistent and understandable._

_In order to do that, I had to dissect the original set of timelines from DBZ, then break down the alterations that would be made by this story, and a few other things. I also wrote a large character portfolio for a character from one of those timelines… wonder who that could be? Purplebear, remember those PMs I sent you? Well, something about my thought process in one of them has changed._

_Originally, the next arc was going to come after the Future chapter coming up, but I decided to go ahead and kick it off in a slightly longer chapter here._

_Something to note about the canon of AHC… yes, I'm aware that the Namekians were wished to New Namek in the original show, but something about that felt cheap… as did the way the movie introduced 13, 14, and 15._

_I didn't like the original 15, so I drew some inspiration from DBH and altered him into a her. I also found the power scaling really strange — how is it that Android 13 would be released to deal with Goku when 14 and 15, the ones that came after him, weren't strong enough to stand up to Super Saiyans?_

_Long story short, there are a lot of alterations coming to the canon in that department. Expect a list of power levels to come in the next chapter._

_As always, feel free to ask any questions you have in a review. Sometimes I make mistakes, and I might not see it unless it's mentioned. I try to answer all that I can, and I deeply appreciate every one!_


	15. Wayward

_Age 781 - 3 Years After Arrival_

* * *

Mother was wrong. Not in the overarching, holistic way. Going back in time, saving the world, not about any of that. She'd been wrong in the more tragic, hollow sense. That was the truth: that time travel wasn't a solution that could be used to fix someone's own problems; it could only be used to solve somebody else's. In her haste, Bulma Briefs had been too hopeful.

That knowledge was a burden and a blessing both.

Trunks couldn't go back in time and save his own people from their destruction at the hands of the Androids. That would just create a new timeline, the one he traveled to, and he would save it instead.

"You can't go forward or backward without going left or right," he muttered, connecting two timelines with a marker. Those words had become his mantra.

On the board before him, four timelines spread out like a fan, connected by lines of marker that signaled the travel taking place between them. He'd labeled them A through D, and they served as the basis for his understanding of time travel. Judging by how Mother's time machine worked, a time traveler could go from A to B, or C to D… but not perfectly. Traveling in certain directions would create new timelines, even if steps could be retraced. Existence itself was an alteration, and those alterations were what created new lines.

Hypothetically, he was in Timeline A.

His timeline was connected to Timeline B, which Gohan created by going back in time to save his friends and their parents. In Timeline B, all problems were solved. The Androids were deactivated and Gero was dead, victim to a revenant of the future he hadn't yet created. Everyone was alive, all debts were settled.

Frowning, Trunks drew a straight line across the end of Timeline B, physically connecting it to the halfway point of Timeline A. He labeled the line "Gohan (A)" and moved on to examining timelines C and D, which were altogether different animals.

Those timelines were, so far, only hypothetical. He couldn't confirm or deny their existence beyond conjecture. Timeline C was a result of Timeline D, which was, itself, a result of Timeline B. Gohan from Timeline C would go back in time to D, which was created three years ago by—

"Trunks!"

Trunks turned to see his mother leaning up against the door, and it was only then that he realized exactly how messy his lab was. Lined by four clear marker boards and roughly the size of a garage, it was all he had to conduct his quest for vengeance. Stapled collections of paper calculations were pinned to the leftmost wall and covered it almost completely; beneath it, on the marker board, lines connected them in sequence, detailing the order he'd created them in.

On the right side of the room, a blueprint of a more refined time machine was sketched out in intricate, painstaking detail. On the wall right in front of him, a timeline of his world's history and the history of three others were accompanied by a series of dimensional coordinates.

Timeline A was designated AX775-781, while Timeline B was designated BX764-767… the space beneath them, filled with elaborate calculations, detailed exactly how Gohan visited and effected them both. Timelines C and D weren't yet labeled by year, as Trunks hadn't yet finished constructing their histories or trajectory, and thus, their calculations were also incomplete.

"Dinner's almost ready," Bulma announced, eyeing the board with apprehension. "Are you going to come eat, or what? You've been working on this all day, kiddo."

"Yeah, I'll be there soon," Trunks said. "I just need to get some training done after I finish these, and then I can…"

"Training? What're you training for?"

Trunks could see it in his mother's eyes — the fear. She'd been fighting him every step of the way, refusing to entertain the possibility that he, too, might go back in time. He knew that, on some level, she understood… but she wouldn't accept it. Not yet, not after having lost so much.

"For the future," he lied. "In case something else happens."

He watched her eyes wander the walls of his lab, latching onto familiar figures, the timelines behind him, and the sketches on the board to her right. She recognized most if it. She'd been the one to draw most of it up, years ago, before sending Gohan back in time. Trunks was only improving upon her designs, streamlining them so that he could abuse them.

She knew he was lying. He didn't know why he bothered. To spare her feelings, a little, maybe. To prevent her from worrying over him, even though she already did, maybe just to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Kid," she started, turning her gaze to the floor. Stray papers littered it too, markers of Trunks's dedication. He'd inherited that sense of duty from Gohan, and it mixed dangerously with her intelligence. He would have been great, if only he were free from the burdens he kept pinning to his shoulders. "You've got to let it go."

Trunks's face fell and he turned back to the board in front of him. He filled Timeline C's designation as CX775-778 and labeled D in a way almost identical to the way he labeled B.

"This isn't a grudge," he sharply replied. "It's not like that. I'm not doing this to get back at anyone."

"I know," Bulma whispered, the hurt hanging on her every word. For as smart as Trunks was, he wasn't capable of getting the point. Like Vegeta, he was stubborn and persistent. It would've been admirable, or even a little cute, in any other scenario. She'd loved it when he was little. It wasn't that it hurt to see pieces of Gohan or Vegeta reflected in him, but the fact that he represented all she had left. He was her hope, and she was certain he knew that, somehow. Somewhere deep down.

By the time he turned back around, she was gone.

* * *

Training without Gohan wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. The first few times, it'd been terrifying. Despite having helped put together the gravity chamber that his mentor never got to use, the idea of actually turning it on and standing in it was beyond daunting. What kind of monster could withstand a force hundreds of times more powerful than the Earth's gravity? If they'd made even one mistake in the machine's construction, his insides would have been turned to liquid.

Trunks still remembered his first time using the chamber, how he'd fallen to his knees within the first ten seconds. It'd been the primary source of his nightmares for months afterward. Well, that, and the _creature_. He didn't know the beast's name. Didn't care to figure it out. All he remembered of the creature's appearance was its long beak and sharp, blade-like tail. In the darkness, he hadn't seen its color, but he remembered its eyes too, a dark, glowing red.

He remembered the sound of its voice.

It was a chorus of the damned strings, played over a gnarled guitar and then distorted beyond repair. He would never forget the call of its voice on that night, when it came after them to take away all that he'd been brave enough to love.

He inhaled.

Clad in a set of jet black training clothes, he examined the console before him. Still shiny and new looking, unlike the rest of the well pockmarked chamber, it was a marker of his family's ingenuity. The pommel of a sheathed blade on his back glittered in the still bright light.

Trunks set the machine's gravity to "500X" and watched as the room turned red. The tower before him hummed as its generators came to life and the chamber door sealed behind him. Pressure came down from above like a tide and his shoulders sagged. The joints in his knees popped and he felt them slowly begin to buckle.

Trunks exhaled and a wisp of golden fire wove through the air over his knee, bolstering it. Still straining, a similar flash ran over the entirety of his other leg, and he brought himself back up to full height. Cobalt fire escaped through his every pore, burned across his skin, and blazed in his eyes. Trunks's teeth ground together and the blood in his veins turned to magma. Cherishing the sensation, Trunks screamed — and was consumed by gold.

All at once, the pressure crushing down on him subsided. He could still feel it, vaguely weighing him down, but it did little to hinder his new strength. He'd been a Super Saiyan for three years, but the transformation always felt the same. It came in a rush of rage and strength, followed by a hollow ring of invincibility that reminded him of his father. He'd never met Vegeta, but he understood _exactly_ how he felt every time he transformed.

In a way, he was glad for that connection. He had no memories of Vegeta, the man, but he knew Vegeta, the legend, well.

He turned and sent three jabs into the open air. Content with the speed of his combination, he issued a series of quick hooks and straights, followed by a set of open palm strikes meant to bat away the advances of an opponent only he could see.

In the crimson semi-darkness, he danced with the shadow of a mad beast.

Every time its tail plunged inward, he knocked it aside, then brought his guard in to defend against its regular attacks. He knew better than to let his guard down against something so vile. That was one lesson he'd learned from Gohan a long time ago. While they'd been training to fight the Androids, he'd come to expect the unexpected.

He'd learned how to sense ki, how to use that same ki as a way to sense incoming opponents, and how to deploy ki effectively. That same effectiveness was something he'd honed and trained during Gohan's absence, and now that he was truly on his own, it was something he prided himself on.

According to his mother, he was even stronger now than Gohan had been when going into the past… but after coming back, nobody could be sure. The onset of the heart virus, which he hadn't expected to contract, set him back considerably… and with the sudden timing of it, no one could be sure how powerful Gohan would have been.

From what Trunks could figure, he'd been the most powerful thing alive until the virus kicked in.

If only he hadn't given the vaccine to his father, then… then things would've been different.

It was ironic.

By saving his father, Gohan doomed himself. At least, in a sense. If not for that _beast_, then Gohan would've been able to get treated. Instead, he was just another loss in the endless string of tragedy that plagued their timeline… a bloody paraph on the final page of a dark history.

Trunks took a deep breath and pivoted, switching stances from the one Gohan taught him to one of his own devising. His left hand shot up to his blade's hilt and he set the weapon free with a wide, brave slash. Katchin enforced steel cut through the air and sent an arc of tightly compacted air cutting through the chamber in its wake.

The young half-saiyan watched as it cut into the titanium of the chamber wall, leaving a tiny scar across its surface. Similar marks were etched into the metal along the chamber's ceiling and floor, typically left beside indentations of tile and impact cracks.

He thought again of Gohan's final day and the titanic battle that led to the theft of his mentor's time machine. He thought of the fear running through his body and let all that remained of his power chase it out. He thought of the attempt to go to New Namek, shot down by the planet's mysterious destruction. He thought of the beast and the grief it'd put his mother through and his power rose to new heights. The flames raging around him scorched the tile at his feet as his blows and sword strikes grew faster, carving larger and larger scars into the wall.

Every scar was a reminder of the truth that he'd learned over time: to be a Super Saiyan wasn't enough to be strong.

Strength came from somewhere else. It wasn't just raw power, but determination, bravery, and the willingness to hope. It was a need, the desire to break through a wall, and the ability to embrace the rage within without succumbing to it.

Trunks threw his sword into the air and spun forward, kicking the pommel so that the tip soared straight for the wall.

A millisecond before impact, he appeared at the other end, batting the sword into the air with a ki-infused forearm. He followed after it, parrying and knocking the blade aside to continue the cycle.

The only problem he couldn't overcome wasn't one of strength. He was strong enough to turn fighters like Frieza into mince meat. The real problem came in the actual mechanics of time travel, which seemed to beget only more time travel.

Staring at the board in his lab, he sketched out a rough estimate of events for Timeline D as he understood it. It must have been similar to B, which was sketched out to the far left. Chronologically, B and D would take place at the same time, two different sides of similar coins.

Gohan from Timeline C would go back in time. He would face off with Cooler, altering the timeline, and then wish for the location of Gero's lab. The differences, Trunks figured, had to happen there. If the beast didn't react in time to stop that from happening, there would be no way to prevent Gohan from finding the emergency shutdown remote.

Trunks looked over to Timeline B to double check. There, Gohan had managed to find the remote and bring it back to the future, Timeline A. In Timeline B, Goku never contracted the heart virus. The vaccination worked, and with Gohan there to make sure he took the medicine, the two of them were able to fix the past.

In Timeline A, the two of them managed to successfully deactivate the Androids… and then Gohan, in an effort to protect Trunks and their time machine, had fallen to the beast with no name. It was during the battle that his heart virus kicked in, reducing the greatest fighter of their generation to his knees. Specifically, it was the Super Saiyan transformation that did it — at least, that was what Trunks figured. By continually ascending to the Super Saiyan state, which strained the heart, Gohan quickened his own demise.

The hard part to figure out was how exactly Gohan got the virus in the first place. It was widespread enough on Earth to have a vaccine, so it couldn't have come from space… at least, not after a certain point. There'd been no contact with spacefaring species since the arrival of the Saiyans, not counting Frieza.

The issue with that was the actual makeup of the virus. Most earthborn viruses were shaped spherically. The heart virus, though, was completely foreign to that. On a microscopic level, it was barbed and foreign.

Thus, the only thing that made sense was that Frieza's arrival decided the influence of the heart virus. Rather, it decided the influence of the heart virus on Goku or Gohan. Namekians probably weren't vulnerable and his father was probably inoculated.

That still left him with a few questions, which he considered while studying the series of events for Timeline A and B.

First, how did Gohan, his mother, or anyone else never receive the virus? Goku wasn't exactly a recluse. Even if he were patient zero, he would have still infected the others… Not all communicable viruses were contagious, though. If the method of transfer were violent or otherwise bloody, it was possible that nobody else would've ever gotten it. Then again, there was always the chance that they'd been host to the virus already, and just hadn't been exposed to the criteria that triggered its active stage.

It made sense that, if not Frieza, then at least Frieza's species would be a carrier for the virus. Because of that, Frieza's men, like Vegeta, would be inoculated. Goku, who was sent off as a baby, wouldn't be. Goku could have contracted the virus itself from Frieza, King Cold, or Cooler. The same was true for Gohan.

Unfortunately, there was no way he could identify to figure out what triggered the virus to activate. Without the technology of Frieza's long dissolved empire, he would never be able to answer his second question: how did the heart virus activate?

Finally, he had to think of how to cure Gohan — not his Gohan, but the other Gohan, the one he was going back in time to save.

The reality of the situation was that he wouldn't interfere with Timelines A or B any further. Timelines, much like physical locations, had certain coordinates. Typically, that would have been a good thing… but the coordinates for any timeline were subject to change, depending on the differences between the timeline being traveled from and the timeline being traveled to.

He could not, however, go back to any point in Timeline A. By using the time machine, he was extracting himself from his own timeline. By pulling himself out of the timestream, he was agreeing to enter a "temporal zone," which was what allowed him to move throughout time as if it were a typical dimension. By moving around in the temporal zone, one could travel to coordinates in the timestream. Coordinates, however, were ever shifting. Time, as it happened, was only ever meant to go one way.

Time travel was, in essence, fighting against a moving current. Since the current was always moving, he would always need to travel further down the river to get to the same point. Because of the effect of that river on the navigation of his ship, that also meant that he would, potentially, get deposited in the wrong timeline…meaning that even if all of his calculations were correct, he could still miss the mark.

Trunks brought the cap end of the marker up to his lips and tapped it against his teeth. It was one of his more visible nervous habits, developed during the years he spent watching his mentor and older brother fly off into battles he couldn't win. Something about the rhythm helped him think, as if it were putting his thoughts to meter.

Realistically, he would be able to return home via the same maxim he'd earlier applied to going back. By going forward or backward, one was taken inadvertently sideways. The extrication process was that sideways step. By extricating himself, he would leave a marker allowing him to return… but he wouldn't be able to arrive before that marker existed.

After was fair game, but he'd still be arriving a little after his departure. Gohan hadn't returned for three years, despite having only been gone a year and a half.

He glanced at the set up on his board once again.

The best thing to do would be to arrive before Gohan, who would be going by Shourai, arrived at Gero's lab. Then, whenever the beast intervened to stop him from finding the shutdown remote, he could stage his own intervention. There, he would defeat the beast that killed his mentor, effectively saving another timeline… and alleviating the guilt weighing down on his heart.

Any mistakes that creature made were mistakes made in his name because he'd been unable to save Gohan. By erasing the aberration that had formed because of Gohan going back in time, he would be righting two wrongs… similarly to how three rights turned into a left, but righting them nonetheless. Then, returning home would close the loop, ending the cycle and putting an end to their use of time travel.

Trunks used his marker to inject himself into Timeline D. The beast would have likely arrived before Gohan's arrival, so that he could track him from the start… but Trunks didn't have the time to wait around and do the same. He would need to arrive on the same day that they found Gero's lab, kill the beast before it could jump Gohan, and then return home.

If he arrived any later, he ran the risk of the beast having already killed Gohan or his friends. At the same time, he had no guarantee that the creature had any intention of doing something so direct. One of the very few things he knew of the beast was that it was of Gero's design. Who was to say it wouldn't be just as opportunistic?

In fact, the vague feeling that he was wrong was still driving him to resist that notion... but there was only one way, really, to check it.

Go to Gero's lab, find the beast's blueprints, and make a decision.

* * *

It only took him a few hours to find the lab. The first thing Gohan did upon returning was to show him the lab's location, with the hopes that they could comb through it later. Though Gero was a mad scientist and a total bastard, he had a lot of good designs. The same technology that destroyed the world could easily help rebuild it… but standing at the remains of Gero's original laboratory, Trunks could only feel the eyes of ghosts, staring down at him from another world.

He wondered if his father was watching, or if Gohan's father were watching, hoping that his son would be avenged. He wondered if they all cared, or if they were too busy doing whatever it was that the dead did.

Gohan, though, wouldn't be watching. Unlike the others, he'd only been dying when that creature took his body into the time machine. Realistically, he'd died outside of time, and his soul would have no home. It was a dark fate, and one Trunks tried not to think about.

With any luck, he could retrieve his mentor's body, for all the good it did him.

Maybe he could even wish him back. Having never encountered a functioning set of dragon balls, he wasn't sure how arbitrary their rules were.

He released his stress with a heavy sigh and strode into the darkness of Gero's lab, aware that some lights still twinkled on the mad doctor's old computers. Most of the machinery was destroyed, charred by energy blasts that must've come from the Androids during their escape from the old man's clutches. A mostly finished robot with a fat, vaguely humanoid lower half hung on the wall. A robotic brain, unfinished, lingered in its head.

Its synthetic skin was porcelain white, and its left hand held a subtly glowing gem. The other hand held a slot for a similar device, and when Trunks lifted it for inspection, understood it to be a conduit with which to channel energy.

Apparently, Gero's infinite power generators weren't the only method he'd considered for Seventeen and Eighteen. It made sense that a model without the same amount of power would allow for more control. Seventeen and Eighteen, who were too strong to be controlled, would never have submitted willingly to Gero's rule. Then again, maybe he'd only considered an alternative to humor his own genius, to see if he could.

Scowling, Trunks took the robot down from the wall and examined the rest of the dusty laboratory.

A dilapidated supercomputer tower, much like the one in his gravity chamber, lorded over the room. Lights still twinkled from it despite the burns littering its surface, and the hum of a generator downstairs told him of its power source.

Trunks charged his left hand with ki and used it as a flashlight while approaching the computer, the hair on the back of his neck on high alert. He could feel eyes on him — hidden somewhere in the lab, watching him. Something about the place was ominous. Something beyond the obvious fact that it was the final resting place of the world's most dangerous villain.

Casting a glance over his shoulder for good measure, Trunks activated the supercomputer before him. The generators downstairs hummed a little louder as the computer came to life and a small screen flickered over his head. He watched a stream of information go by; diagnostics, status reports, and power failure reports popped up and were flung to the far left of the screen by wave after wave of new alerts, each one more prominent than the last.

He saw population reports, video data of the initial Android attack, and even sociological information about the collapse of society surrounding those attacks.

Trunks had almost turned around when the final alert took hold of the screen.

"Mission successful," he read, "all targets eliminated."

A small report below the alert byline listed out the date of death for all of the Z-Fighters. Most of them were packed tightly together on the same day. Warriors like Piccolo and Vegeta came later. Gohan's was last. Optional targets were highlighted in blue beneath the red names of the deceased, listing key scientists like his mother, his grandfather, and other scientists who'd gone to ground years prior. Trunks didn't recognize the names, like that of Doctors Flappe, Norimaki, or Masharito, but he knew Gero would have wanted to eliminate all opposition.

He made a mental note to visit the names on the "optional" list and swept the file aside by flicking his finger over the touchscreen. Dismissing the reports of each individual success, he navigated his way to a promising looking task list labeled "ongoing."

A list of files and detailed design notes for a remote control came on screen. Clearly meant to allow the doctor control over his more powerful androids, it would have saved his life… but judging by the Doctor's death, he hadn't bothered to finish it in time.

After it were the designs for the fatter looking Android on the wall. Dubbed Nineteen, he would have been an energy absorber, capable of sucking the literal life out of Gero's foes. From conjecture, Trunks could only hazard a guess at the cyborg's true purpose… to limit Seventeen and Eighteen. With infinite energy came a lot of power, and an overwhelming amount of responsibility that they felt no allegiance to. With an energy absorption model android amongst them, it could diffuse their aggression.

A second and third energy absorption model design existed, with specifications Trunks didn't recognize. One was for an Android Fifteen, and the other for an Android Twenty. The fact that Gero planned on creating more Androids didn't exactly shock him. What did, though, was exactly how close he'd come to completing Android Fifteen.

Fifteen was a female version of the fat, doll looking Nineteen. A little less powerful and less independent, but generally similar. If he understood the data, she'd been in progress when Gero committed his resources to Androids Seventeen and Eighteen, shortly before the death of Son Goku. Her design was being used exclusively to further development of model Nineteen.

A file folder dubbed "completed" captured his attention next. In it were designs for Androids Seventeen, Eighteen… and Sixteen.

An involuntary shiver rolled down his spine.

Another Android?

No, Gero hadn't released three androids. He'd know about that. The whole world would've. Filled with trepidation, Trunks opened the file. At once, a small prompt window requested a password from him. Frowning, he tried to close the dialogue box… but it popped back up a second later. Apparently, Gero's system wasn't one that allowed for hesitation.

Unsure of what to do, Trunks frowned. Could he just leave the box up? Move on to the sub basement?

The scream of a nearby alarm answered his question for him.

Wincing, Trunks lifted his left hand and blasted the klaxon from the wall, destroying the speaker and taking out a chunk of the rock ceiling with the force of his blast. For a moment, all was silent… and then he heard it, the subtle hissing of depressurization coming from downstairs.

Trunks eyed the computer one last time and raced to the staircase, practically leaping down it with his hand on the hilt of his blade. By the time he reached the bottom and turned to examine the sublab, the hiss had subsided… but the laboratory's innards were still filled with smoke.

He couldn't risk taking a shot into the smoke. If he hit the wrong thing without knowing what the hell was down there, he could trigger an explosion that sent the whole place up in smoke. His visit _could not_ be for nothing.

The truth of the matter was that he _needed_ a break. Brother dead, mother unwilling to help… he needed Gero's laboratory to reveal something to him. Something that would allow him to change things for the better.

"Identify yourself."

Trunks didn't recognize the voice. Stiff and mechanical, it sounded nothing like Seventeen or Eighteen had. He could identify no personality within its tonality or wording, not from something so little. Trunks unsheathed his blade, Tizona, and stepped forward to greet the fading smoke. With his blade gripped tightly in hand, he could vaguely make out the shape of a monstrously tall man's silhouette.

"My name is Trunks Briefs," he said. "I'm going to give you the chance to surrender, peacefully. Doctor Gero is long dead… nobody has to get hurt."

The silence settled in as the smoke dissipated to reveal a large man in green body armor and a black jumpsuit. A fire red mohawk fell messily over the cyborg's eyes, which glittered a soft blue in the semi darkness of the lab.

Lights overhead slowly flickered to life, brought back on by the activation of several auxiliary generators lining the room, as the Android examined his surroundings. Trunks used the silence to risk a look beyond the Android, who he mentally labeled Sixteen, and at the rest of the laboratory. He could see the outline of a large life support pod in the far back side of the lab, and a number of superfluous android pods. Labeled ten through twenty, most of them were open and played host to a number of dilapidated metal skeletons. Pods sixteen through eighteen were completely empty.

A secondary computer was starting up on the east wall, already running through a number of preliminary scans and checks.

"Trunks Briefs. You are an intruder in the lab of Doctor Gero. You have ten seconds to leave this laboratory before you will be forcibly ejected."

Trunks stared ahead at the metal man blocking his path.

"Ten."

Then at the lively looking laboratory behind him.

"Nine. Eight."

There was still so much to learn. So much to be garnered from the ashes of Gero's work… even if he found nothing that would help him discern the identity of Gero's more bestial abomination, the world could be rebuilt by his better ones…

"Seven. Six. Five."

He understood his mother's fears in that moment. By letting him go back to save Gohan, by letting him follow in those footsteps, he was inadvertently following in Gero's own. He was sacrificing hope for vengeance, and letting wrath supplant reason.

"Four. Three."

A flush of gold took him from the ankles up. The muscles in his arms, legs, chest, and shoulders expanded with faint _pops_ and his joints cracked with the sudden influx of raw power flooding through his veins. Once again, the anger took hold of him — a different, more righteous kind of fury, one of hope.

"Two. One."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it already. Let's dance, big guy."

* * *

_A/N: Hey there guys. I hope you enjoyed our second trip to the future. There were a lot of bombs dropped in this one, some subtle, some more dangerous. We'll be seeing more of this timeline at the end of the current arc, and exploring some of what makes these versions of Trunks and Bulma different from the canon. That said, hope you guys like this rendition of Trunks, who's a bit broody, but for different reasons than the original Trunks._

_A few things to note here: Gero's lab is functional in this timeline because Seventeen and Eighteen didn't bother to blow it up after being activated. Instead, they just killed Gero and went on to wreak havoc. In the meantime, he left a few backup routines to run things and finish ongoing designs… like Android 16 here._

_Can you guys guess what made him decide not to finish Android 13, 14, and 15 in this timeline? Leave a review and tell me what you're thinking. Heck, even if you're not thinking anything, feel free to leave one._

_Before I get to the Q/A and Power Levels, let me say thanks to everyone who left a review for the last chapter. I really love getting any and all feedback. Thanks to Obeyashleyk, Zookster, TaitanoRules555, iikd, jplaya2023, and X3runner for the reviews left on the last chapter!_

_Q: So you replaced Android 15 with Nico from DBH?  
__A: In terms of design, I took a lot of inspiration from Nico. I really like the idea of a cute android girl other than Android 18. Plus, since 19 is supposedly based on a doll anyway, I really wanted to explore a more "dainty" android prototype, one that's markedly different from 18._

_Q: Will Gohan transform here when Shourai and his Dad get brutally beaten?  
__A: I don't wanna give anything away… but Gohan's definitely going to get a little bit of limelight in the next chapter. Goku's going to get a fair share of attention too._

_Q: I'm curious, did you get the idea of sensing an opponent's attack from DBS?  
__A: A little bit. I've always loved the idea of using ki for more things than just raw strength. As more and more heavy hitters enter the canon of AHC, I want them to be more than different colored guns. Some fighters will use different tactics, items, or powers to do their thing. Shourai, for example, has already shown us that he can sense an opponent by feeling their attack coming… but it goes beyond that. Theoretically, he could also sense the location of an Android in battle by the void their lack of ki leaves._

_Vegeta will have a few interesting things to do with his ki, in the special, coming at the end of May (and the conclusion of this arc)._

_Q: So how the heck does time travel work here? Your explanation left something to be desired.  
__A: Basically, in DBZ, Cell claims that Trunks is the reason for all of the cast's worries… but in reality, it's him. By abusing Trunks's time machine and going into the past, Cell creates two other timelines. One visited by a different Trunks, and the timeline that Trunks comes from. In AHC, it's somewhat similar._

_Q: Shourai dies to Cell in the future, then?  
__A: Yes. Cell from Trunks's timeline kills a version of Shourai… one who successfully completed his mission after discovering Gero's lab. However, things seem to be unfolding a little differently in the timeline we're following throughout AHC. Something tells me things aren't going to go so smoothly for him this time._

**_Power Levels:  
_**_Shourai - 17,500,000  
__SSJ Shourai - 162,500,000_

_Son Goku - 12,500,000  
__SSJ Son Goku - 157,500,000_

_Trunks - 11,500,000  
__SSJ Trunks - 156,500,000_

_Yamcha - 570,000  
__Yamcha (Kaio-Ken) - 1,140,000  
__Yamcha (Kaio-Ken x10) - 5,700,000_

_Son Gohan - 450,000  
__Krillin - 435,000  
__Tien - 330,000_

_Suppressed Android 14 - 5,000,000  
__Suppressed Android 15 - 10,000,000  
__Suppressed Android 13 - 15,000,000_


End file.
